


You saw it.

by Myrsky



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), F/M, Loki Feels, Loki Has Issues, Loki-centric, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers (2012), Slow Build, Some really dark parts, The Void, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, but they are almost always balanced with comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-06-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 11:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3486074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myrsky/pseuds/Myrsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki wants to know how his army was defeated by The Avengers.<br/>Tony wants to know what on hell did he see, what did he feel on the other side.</p><p>They don't know any better than poking each other.</p><p>-<br/>Set right after the end of The Avengers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He has been waiting at the workshop for hours now -more than three, if the clock on the screen is worth anything- on his feet a couple of steps behind the chair where the Midgardian is sitting, his arms crossed behind himself, watching the mortal work with the most precise and oriented concentration he has ever seen, all that focus centred on the study of the files that never ceased popping in front of him, typing for some short periods of time and extracting way more information that he has ever witnessed before, even when his own mind-controlled minions did all they could in a system that was theirs by nature. After all, they were S.H.I.E.L.D. agents prying open the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s information for him, everything that the little bird didn't know about.

Something tells him that he won't be able to break that concentration any time soon and that it would be far better to simply leave the room and make like this little excursion to the mortal's hideout had never happened. Then again, it would be no good to do so, his mind would always come back to the information that has been hidden from him and to the holder of that secret. The  _ Man of Iron _ , as Thor had labelled him when he was taken to Asgard to face his trial, the one who had saved Midgard and defeated the Chitauri at the risk of his own life. The mortal who controlled the machines and the data like some sort of magic. He hadn't seen this...  _ understanding _ ... of the nature of the knowledge since he himself had studied magic from his first tutors, hands always picking on the smallest and seemingly unimportant fragments that later demonstrated to be the very core of the issue.

And there Stark was, taking from the general files to the most important, yet the most obscure ones, picking apart the information he needs to know and derailing into anything that could put him a step forward from both his allies and his enemies, as small as the piece might seem to untrained eyes. He sees photographs of himself, barely more than screenshots from the different cameras he had been close to. That hadn't taken him by surprise, because he had wanted them to have a visual record of himself. He had already learnt about the cameras since that first take on this planet when Thor was held in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody at New Mexico. He could cloud himself from them, he could be invisible even to the most sharp and acute eyes in this Realm, which surely must be the ones that belong to the mortal sitting in this room.

Suddenly, a noise starts right behind him, something between a buzz and a pulse of water, a rich, dark scent filling the whole room as a black liquid is poured into a mug that was prepared under the machine. When the noise is subdued and the mug is full, he squints his eyes, taking the mug -Stark Industries, how comes he is not at all surprised about this man printing his name on a simple mug when even the building bore his name- and placing it on the table, to the obvious disappointment of one of the small mechanic creatures that worked with Stark.  
Stark simply grabs the mug, not looking up from the screen, definitely thinking it had been DUM-E placing the mug on the table - as always. So he takes the mug in his hands, still looking at the screens and still trying to analyse all the information.

"You saw it." Loki says then, unable to stay still even a second more and completely sure of what he hadn't before, as he had been into the tower -quite literally, his spine was plastered into the tower- and none had told him how did they had closed the wormhole or finished with the Chitauri, two separate facts after all. Closing the wormhole would have only stopped the invasion, not killed them, for that, the connection with the mother ship should have been broken.

Stark blinks and flinches on his chair, looking to his back and staring at Loki for the first time. And then, eyes wide, turning around, stares at one of the little objects in the ceiling "JARVIS?! What is this?", he almost screamed, his voice about to break, his hand gesturing to Loki as if breathing the same air than he did would poison him.

"What is what? I don't see anything, Sir." JARVIS tranquil voice answered, leaving Tony gaping and staring back and forth between Loki and the camera, his hand fisting on the front of his tank top, as if he were protecting his arc reactor "You have been alone since Miss Potts left the workshop 36 hours ago.  _ And awake for 12 hours more, Sir _ ." The sassy attitude that JARVIS gave to the last line almost made Stark cringe, still looking at Loki like now he was doubting of his own mind.

Loki simply smirked, a quick line bringing his lips back to life, from the statuesque stance that he had maintained for hours now, while waiting for Stark to notice him, at last. "I can cloud myself from the prying eyes of the All-Seer and the powers of the Throne of Asgard, Stark, of course your electronic eyes cannot see me."

"Oh." While Stark was still blinking, that Loki had just admitted that his systems were working correctly seemed to have stopped the alarm that was running through him. Not that he could understand why the man was now feeling better, having into consideration that he had just told the mortal that he could break into any system he'd like, but... each to their own, as he had heard one of the minions say. "What are you doing here, then? Shouldn't you be in Never-never-land? Didn't you have, I don't know, a trial to attend to? Like, your own?"

"Shall we say that I grew weary of waiting and decided to give myself a break from the gaol." The smirk hadn't quite abandoned his lips, and even if his posture was non menacing at all, his hands still behind himself, Stark seemed suddenly aware of him being a god and a sorcerer, someone more than able to kill with his bare hands or a whisper.

Loki kept himself all calm, collected and still, watching how the mortal was finally taking into consideration all the details that had been presented in front of him, being broken apart so deliciously. His face changed from the fear of the realization to a more and more confused face, his eyes quickly scanning the table until he grabbed a long forgotten bottle and decided to take a swig directly from it. After a too long gulp, he cleaned his mouth on the back of his hand, taking the presence of Loki from his toes to his face. "Not an answer to _ why _ are you _ here _ , Reindeer Games."

"Oh." Loki said, with a cheeky chuckle that might has been regarded as a giggle on a lesser man. "Because I am bored, obviously, and you made a good job at my entertainment before." His eyes are fixed on Stark's, the intensity of his glare could have broken any frail mind in a second. Not Stark's, he simply shrugged it off and kept staring up and down at him, his mind still working at full speed.

"Of-fucking-course, be my guest, why would I fail to entertain your highness?" Stark muttered to himself, taking another gulp of the bottle which was just half full to begin with and now held no more than another gulp.

Loki kept talking, ignoring the remark. "Because you and you alone defeated the army that should have taken Midgard."

"Alone, completely alone... It wasn't me who decided to nuke New York, you can make that a 5% blame for your defeat to the WSC. An argument could be made to lower it, because yes, after all, I did all the work."

"You saw it." He repeated with the most cold voice he could gather, not wanting Stark to derail the conversation.

"What are you talking about, what did I see?" Stark answers, his eyes widening again in full focus this time, trying to remember anything that had been Loki-related... which was way too much to have a clear answer in a second.

"The Void, you, fool. You are the only one who could and would have trespassed that hole. Reeks of your actions, Stark. The spies would have died just by setting their feet there, just as the Shield-bearer as much as he filled with power. I know that the oaf would have never risked a walk into the Void and as for the green monster, he is not human enough to burden himself with such a purpose. You are. You did. You saw it."

Stark's face quickly grew paler than he had ever seen, the bottle escaping from his hand like he had lost all of his strength, the other hand at his chest, pressing flat against the reactor this time while his breath was cut short and sharp, not enough to fill his chest and lungs, Loki was sure about that. His eyes were open wide in horror, moving and scanning the room, trying to see anything he could grab to stop the fall. The Void was claiming him again, infinite silence, cold and powerful. His body wasn't fully frozen in place, making him lean to the front of the chair, making him fall... again...

... or not. Loki's hands found their way to his shoulders, holding him against the back of the chair, drawing small circles on the fabric of Stark's tank top with his thumbs.

"No soul from the Nine Realms should ever face the Void." Loki said, to his own surprise, eliciting a sound from Stark that was closer to a dying animal sound than to a human sound. He looked down to his face again, noticing now something he hadn't taken into consideration before, even when the machine had talked about it - the rings under Stark's eyes were deep. Awake for 48 hours, when no more than 60 had passed since Thor took him to Asgard. Frail mortal. Delicate. Breakable. Terrorized. Shaking under the hands of the enemy, from a fear that is as old as the universe. With a groan of his own, Loki moved one of his hands from Stark's shoulder to his neck, his fingers cradling it delicately as his thumb brushed the jaw to make him look up. "You can't sleep, not even if your shield brothers are around." The panic kept growing in the eyes of the mortal, making it an absolute feat that he was still breathing on his own, even the small gasps he was reduced to now. Some part of himself wanted to laugh at the similarities between them, because even broken, they both would rather face death with open eyes... anything but the black Void, no, not again.

"Come." Loki said, slipping the hand still on Stark's shoulder down his arm to grab his hand, tugging it lightly to make him stand up. "I will cloud you from the creatures that filled the Void. I will grant you a night of sleep, before you consume this mortal body." That seemed to snap Stark awake again, looking at him like he had never seen Loki before, a completely different layer of fear topping his feelings, but a fear that was more delicate than the raw fear to the Void. A fear that had something of hopeful. Just the fear of believing in Loki's words, this time.

"Pro... promise?" All the verbosity of the always talking mortal seemed to have been shattered, his hand now grabbing Loki's with a strength that would have broken his bones, had he been human. His eyes, however, were talking more than they had ever before, filled with an emotion that Loki didn't really want to break. Not now. Trust. A so beautiful trust, pure and unaltered, a trust like he had never hoped to see again. Not placed on him.

"Yes, Stark. I promise. Now take the lead." Loki released his hand from Stark's and gestured with the other hand towards the door, following the slow and tired steps of Stark, until he wrapped his arm around his waist, giving him something to lean on as he walked. When they reached the elevator, he practically collapsed over him, his forehead coming to rest at his shoulder. Drained.

It wasn't a surprise when he simply let himself fall over the bed, not bothering with undressing or cleaning himself, just gathering enough energy to look at Loki, that hopeful and trustful look again. Loki waved his hand, weaving a net over the slumped body that would allow him to stay clouded from the influence of the Void, as long as Loki himself would be around... and awake. Almost a second after he had weaved the net, Stark's eyes fixed on the green glow coming from his hands, he could feel how the mortal fell asleep, so trusting, so exhausted. He would be surprised if Stark woke up before the Sun rose and fell again.

He sat on one of the armchairs of the room, relaxing his body on the comfortable surface, his elbows resting on his legs... getting ready for a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frankly, I have no idea at all of where I am going with this. Any suggestion is more than welcome, as any review about what you liked and what you didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

When Tony woke up, the Sun had indeed rose and fallen again, the eerie calm of the night filling the city underneath the tower. He felt oddly cool, like he had forgotten to get under the blanket again or he had trashed all his sheets during the night. He stirred lightly, noticing that no, it was even better, he hadn't bothered with getting undressed in the first place. Great.

“Good morning, Sir. It's 0.40 A.M. of Thursday...” JARVIS started speaking when he noticed Tony moving in the bed, trying to sit up, just to find Loki sitting in an armchair in front of the bed and suddenly remembering the events of the _night_ before. Yeah, right, the night before, like he hadn't slept for... about 18 hours. Pretty much the longest time that he had been off since before Afghanistan without the help of any kind of sedation. Or an alcohol overdose, for all that matters. Still looking at Loki, he swallowed loudly, his throat completely dry. His voice would definitely be hoarse, he knew as much, so he didn't try to talk, shutting JARVIS with a move of his hand.

Shit, this was really true. Loki was staring back at him with the same intensity he had right before he had pushed him out of the window. Damn scary, if anyone were to ask. Even more so when the guy was still wearing that damned armour, luckily, sans the helmet. He would be lying if he said that his heart wasn't beating hard in his chest while seeing that, fully conscious now. The night before... well, he never completely ruled out that Loki might be an hallucination, not even when he took him to the room and helped him to sleep.

“You still want that drink?” he groaned, pushing himself up from the bed, his hands pressing hard on the mattress to lift his body from its previous position “I definitely need one.” With that, he walked out of the room, not checking if the god was following him or not, not stopping until he grabbed one of his bottles of scotch from his bar, placing a couple of tumblers down on the counter and filling them both. If Loki didn't want that drink... the more, the merrier, even when it's about glasses.

He could have never imagined that Loki could walk down the stairs from the suite in such a slow and careful way, not like he had imagined Loki walking down that stairs at all, because enemies and so on, then again, he is Tony Stark and he should know better than to expect any kind of reasonable thing happening in his life. Apart from Pepper. Pepper is the only good and reasonable thing in his life. A smile escapes from his lips at that thought, grabbing a bit closer his tumbler, the strong scent of alcohol with that hint of oak relaxing him, his mind suddenly distracted from the tall and brooding god coming closer and sitting down –more like slumping down, truth to be told- on a stool before picking up the tumbler.

The sound of the glass makes him look up again to find something that truly surprises him for a while. Loki looks tired. Like, really tired, at the same brink of exhaustion. And that makes him feel extremely uncomfortable, no matter how much he dislikes Loki. Also, he looks terribly distracted, his eyes not focusing on anything at all, simply staring at some point on the floor, next to the window. “Hey, want anything to eat?”

Loki simply looks up, his gaze not quite meeting Tony's. “That would be quite pleasant.” is the answer that Loki gives him, still looking quite away from any answer he would have expected to hear from the god. So he simply walks to the other side of the bar, taking a box full of chocolate from a cabinet under the counter. Perhaps he should have thought about the lack of any real food around the penthouse before offering, but since he didn't... chocolate, that's it.

“Here, help yourself.” Tony says, pushing the box to the middle of the counter and grabbing one for his own, suddenly feeling hungry. Who knows how long has passed since the last time he had a proper meal. Well, JARVIS knows, but he is sure not asking that. He is almost done with his chocolate square before Loki notices the box and takes one out of it, eyeing it carefully before giving it a bite. “You okay?” Tony simply asks, not really concerned but disoriented at the general behaviour of Loki.

Loki blinks then, looking at him with the chocolate square still between his lips, and suddenly seems to be snapped awake. “Yes, perfectly fine, mortal. I have simply been awake for long.” He watches how Loki bites the dark chocolate, making a face at the bitterness of it but it's the kind of snack that truly compliments the taste of scotch.

He should know better than to keep poking the Bag of Cats, specially when he's recognizing that he's not exactly at top-notch condition but then again... no, he wants to know what is Loki really doing here, why has he stayed the whole time... and why the actual hell hasn't Thor come back to pick the guy up. Thor seemed pretty intent on keeping Loki back to Asgard and... here he was. Escaped. Like none could grab a hold of him, really. Helicarrier all over again, you can put him in a cage but you can't hold him down.

“But why are you here, Dasher? Not like I have anything against having brooding gods in my house, but I really kind of do. I get it, I owed you the drink and your people is kind of old-fashioned guys playing with swords and debts of honour and yada yada yada, but coming back to New York? Not the best move, when you are a fugitive.” He kept talking, not sure if he was pissing Loki off or if he could get him to open up and getting an answer or two.

“Am I here?” Loki actually smirked, taking another chocolate square from the box “Truly?”

Tony simply picks another chocolate from the box, and instead of unwrapping it, he simply throws it at Loki's head, leaving Loki too surprised to dodge it, and grinning when the chocolate indeed hits the god, shocking him into a startled laugh while Loki looks at the chocolate, absolutely betrayed look on his face.

“In all fairness, yes, I am here. I am also there.”

Tony blinks at that answer, not knowing what to make of it at all. Yes, of course, that would explain why Thor hasn't stormed into the Tower looking for his brother yet but at the same time it was more than unsettling. Like, how the hell can Loki be at two places at the same time? Now he also looks at the chocolate with a betrayed look on his face, because that might be the cause of a whole view shift into his mind, because damn if Loki is in two places at the same time, then he can't say that magic is just advanced science anymore, can he?

He looks up to the polisher surface of the counter and takes another swig of his tumbler, before looking at Loki again. “Seriously now. What do you want?”

Loki braces his arms on the counter, looking right into his eyes, effectively paralysing him for a moment, his mind forgetting how to do the most basic stuff as Loki seems to search within the corners of his soul. “I wanted answers. I got some. Now I got a new concern... and you are the centre of it, that is why I remained here while you slept, mortal. How much do you remember of our conversation?”

“Last night? You wanted to know about how we won the battle...?” Tony holds Loki's gaze, trying to remember what escaped him, he knows that there is a fog on his mind, something that wants to stay away and untouched, something that is scary and threatens to beat him up if he ever uncovers it again. Suddenly he can't hold Loki's gaze anymore, fidgeting on his position and wishing he had sat somewhere.

Loki simply hums, nodding like that explained everything “Good. Do not touch that memory, Stark, not when I am not around. Or Thor, at least, as much as I loathe him he has some basic education on the matters of the universe.”

He keeps fidgeting, sure of having Loki's gaze on him again, pouring more scotch on his own glass and emptying it almost in one gulp. Okay, he really, really needs to take a hold on Asgard's golden child pretty soon, he needs to find out what Loki is talking about. That, or coming back to researching the old, obscure cults of Earth. Both, he can do both, both is good. Anything but asking for Bag of Cats to come back to his home. Yes.

Loki stands up from the stool, moving in a less tired way than he had before. “I will leave now, Stark.”

“Yeah, peachy.” Tony says, still distracted, thinking about the memory he has to avoid, touching carefully around the borders of it. When he really hears what Loki said and looks up, he is there no more. He simply left, not even a green glow to signalize the departure. He turns around, wanting to check if Loki is behind him before really believing that he is gone. Nope, not there either. “I really gotta work on some ninja-vanish-potions. Useful in awkward conversations.” he says to himself, wondering what to do now.

He should call S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, shouldn't he? At least to tell them that Loki isn't as well trapped as he should. Then again, they have no means of getting in contact with Thor, so nothing he says will help to really lock Loki. And no, he doesn't want to talk with them, maybe just with Bruce and he isn't sure about not getting a hulk out on the Tower if he tells Brucey that Loki isn't exactly locked away. And he just got the window and the floor fixed, _thank-you-very-much_. If he decides to come to the Tower, he will share his worries but no, no way he is calling him in.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Sir?” his AI answers, as quick and efficient as always.

“You really saw nothing in the footage of the last hours I have been awake, did you?”

“Correct, Sir.” the AI sounded doubtful, like he didn't know how to say what he wanted to say, something that he hadn't yet heard from JARVIS, not even when he flew into the wormhole. “I had concerns on your safety, Sir, but since the panic attack subdued quickly and your readings were all fine, I decided not to call on anyone. Can I assume that there was something tampering my senses, Sir?”

“Fuckin' magic, Jay. I hate it. Anyway, this calls for a session in the workshop.” he starts walking towards the elevator, making a face as if he was remembering something important “Call Pep? Tell her to come as soon as she can, no worries and no hurries, just a thing I want to consult with her.” Pep will know what to do, right? That's Pep's thing. If she can deal with him, she can surely help him deal with the Tall-and-brooding Bag of Cats.

Yup. And he also needs to talk to her about her mobile phone, because there is no way that his call ever gets rejected again if he is calling from the Iron Man suit...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Loki had put the tags for the first chapter... added some more now and I'll keep adding as I remember to do it.
> 
> Same as I said before, I am open to suggestions and reviews. And thanks for reading!
> 
> \---  
> Edit: silver_drip just wrote an awesome [piece](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3548657) that goes really well with this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

Perhaps he had been lucky to be all alone when Loki popped into the Tower. So lucky that Bruce had gone back to Calcutta to fix something about his work, what had he said... something about training new doctors to take his place if he was to move back to the States. Also, so tremendously lucky that Pepper had gone back to her meetings ( _his_ meetings? Surely the topic was Stark Industries, but he couldn't remember if he had been invited to the meetings or not) in Washington after making sure that he was okay, that he hadn't died fighting the Chitauri.

Well...

Not so much _not having died_ , but not _staying_ dead. That's what counts, right? Not to Pepper, that's for sure, because she yelled at him calling him crazy, reckless, how dare he almost die,... He had known better than to tell Pep that it was her who enrolled him in the mission and that omission had given her enough leverage to calm down.... and make it up to him right there, taking off some of the tension and blocking the steam of thoughts that had been bugging him since he fell back off of the wormhole. Sex worked greatly, specially when it had been as hot, hard and needy as it had been; and even if it was just a patch to shut his brain down for a moment. But then, she had left, going back to the D.C. and leaving him alone at the Tower. Alone with his thoughts, alone with his fears,... and very much scared of what had happened when he hadn't been _alone_. If his steam of thoughts had been overwhelming before Loki had come for a visit, now it was devastating.

Perhaps it was the _no hurries_ thing he had said when he asked JARVIS to call her what made Pep come back to New York so fast. Because yes, she had learnt somehow down the line that when he said “everything's fine, take your time” is the exact time when you have to run to wherever Tony is and get the words out of his mouth, as opposed to the times when he's all whiny and needy for attention.

So yes, 5 hours later (as soon as the jet could pick her up and drop her in New York) Pep was entering the workshop, hurrying to him and pushing him into a hug even before asking how is he or what is wrong, because she knows that, _maybe_ , after she gets an answer to that, she won't want to hug him. Really, it's such a bummer that she knows him so well. It's like he can't hide anything from the inquisitive, piercing and fierce blue eyes of hers. How can a woman like her even agree to spare a look on him... but that's something he doesn't really want to think. Even less right now. Nope. Enough darkness into his head, shall she bring the light back.

“Tony...” she whispers, like she knows everything. Perhaps she is a witch. No, don't even think that next to Pep, she must be able to read minds!

“Hmm... Welcome home.” he mutters, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist and laying his head on her shoulder for a moment before quickly kissing her lips and pulling back.

“I cut the meetings at Washington for a second time, Tony, tell me you are okay, please.” she says, pressing her forehead to his and speaking in such a low, quiet volume, barely inaudible “You are going to give me an heart attack one of these days.”

“I am okay, Pep, for now I'm perfectly fine.” he says, knowing that it isn't true, not even in the surface he is okay and he doesn't know how deep inside he's fucked up, not yet, not until he discovers what is under the fog of his memory “Take a seat.” he points to the side, where DUM-E has brought another wheeled chair for Pepper, earning a head pat from the gorgeous creature.

“Here, I sat. What is the consulting service you needed? I'll have to start giving you consulting times at office hours.” she says with a smile, making him want to hold her in his lap and never want to let her go.

“I have three topics for today, Ms. Potts. One is bad news, the other is worse news and the third is Stark category news. I am sorry to say that you don't get any petition for their order, so just tell me if you are all ready to listen.” he tilts his head so lightly to take a hold on her gaze, needing the small reassurance of the love on her eyes, even if it gets almost completely replaced by the professionalism when he addresses her by her surname.

“Go ahead, Mr. Stark.”

“Bad news, courtesy of your boyfriend: I am hacking your phone, Pep. Next time that I call from the Iron Man suit? That call will override whatever. I don't care if you are in a meeting with the president of the USA, if you are at the restroom or if you are parachuting from a plane. That call? Important. Urgent. I will need you more than my own breath.” he is almost scared of her reaction, but he hopes that she can see how logical is the solution he is offering.

“Oh, Tony... Sure you can hack my phone for that.” she smiles lightly, holding his hand. He allows himself to hold her hand as long as he can.

“Okay, next topic. Worse news, courtesy of Iron Man: Loki isn't truly on hold. He came here last night and the thing wasn't simply an hallucination. I could hit him with stuff. Asgard can't hold him, even if Thor promised so.” he can see how Pepper wants to answer him, so he simply puts a finger over her lips to hush her. “Stark category news, courtesy of Tony-fucking-Stark: I may or may not be compromised. I don't know if he has cast some fucking spell over me, there is a part of my memories that I can't reach and it's related to him. Worse than anything else, Bag of Cats said he is worried for me. Worried. That thing is concerned. About me.” he pauses for a second as he can feel another incoming headache “I can't get myself to call to S.H.I.E.L.D. because I can't safely get debriefed at this moment and they will insist to do so. He may have put something into my wiring to make me explode or go berserker at any word. I have no idea. I may be a menace, Pep. But if I tell this to S.H.I.E.L.D.? They'll want to put me in one of these padded cells, away from the world. I am no superhuman, I can be held at their convenience.” he ends up pinching his knitted brows, the thought has been bugging him for all the night.

Her face quickly changes into the PR disaster one, containment of bad news at work, making him wonder if she simply won't want to address this as... well, his partner, because that face is way too professional. “Yes, we can't afford to call S.H.I.E.L.D. right now, the risk of them holding you again is too big... however, you should make sure that JARVIS is ready to call them at any sign of danger. Perhaps the other avengers might want to help you? I don't know, stay around for a while?”

“It's not like they can do anything against him, the only one who could truly contain him is Thor... who is supposedly doing that anyway.” he sighs, looking at his own hands on his lap. “Or the Hulk, but I don't want to put Bruce again in that situation. Definitely not calling the guy so I can use him, I'm not S.H.I.E.L.D., I'm not a government, I am his friend.”

Suddenly, that concentration breaks as she whispers “God, Tony...” before holding his face, her hands gently cupping his cheeks “What am I to do with you, hmm? Can you stop getting into trouble, at least for a week?”

“Not like I don't try. Didn't ask for this one, I am sure. This time, this time I am innocent. Did nothing.”

She caresses his face, her lips brushing against his forehead, resignation filling her voice “I know, Tony, I know.”

“Pep... there is actually another topic.” he sighs loudly, resting his back against the chair and pulling himself from Pepper's touch “The fucker... JARVIS can't record him. I am working to solve that right now but I don't know if it'll work. I'm pretty much defenceless if he decides to come touring the Tower again.”

“JARVIS?” she looks at the ceiling, her face worried.

“Yes, Ms. Potts, Sir is correct. My scans can't feel Loki's presence, unless he makes himself known as during the invasion. Sir has implemented some new strings in my coding, but they are yet to be tested.”

“It can't get worse, can it?” Pepper said, turning to Tony.

“Yes, it can. You can't sleep here. Not at the penthouse, at least. I don't know if he simply teleports himself to wherever I am or if he pops up at the penthouse first. I can't know until I catch him, either on act or on film. You can't be alone at the penthouse, and sleeping there, not safe. Just get a room at another floor, or an hotel, or your old apartment.” he looks up to her at last, trying to focus his eyes on hers “I can't risk you, Pep.”

She shook her head, trying to place that last drop of information like it was truly too much to take “I... Okay, I will try to reschedule again the meetings and I'll just go to do something useful in Washington, since I can't stay here.”

“I'm so sorry, Pep.” he said, so sincere that his voice was almost broken.

“It's fine, Mr. Stark. I'll be seeing you after the meetings are over and I hope that this problem is solved by then. I trust you to work your best.”

He managed to smile, at last, even if it was a bit shaky, a bit too broken “Sure thing, Ms. Potts. Take care.”

“You too, Mr. Stark.” she simply said before leaving, a brief touch to his hand as goodbye.

… all alone again, waiting for the _God_ to come back. If he does. As much as he never knelt, Loki seemed to be controlling his life now.

Awesome.

Simply awesome.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony had been pacing the workshop for hours after Pepper left. His mind couldn't come to terms with being at someone else's will, much less when he was free and at home. When S.H.I.E.L.D. had retained him at Malibu, at least, he had something important to think about because he was dying and he had to work on the core of the arc reactor. Now, he couldn't focus on anything, his thoughts jumping from simple specs for minor Stark Industries' patents to theoretical physics in the field of teleportation.

In less than a couple of hours, he had JARVIS starting up at least a dozen different files, talking to himself during the whole time, the things he created and the ideas he used ranging from perfect to maniac. More frequently than not on the maniac side, truth to be told.

The next hours his demeanour changed from constructive to destructive, as he started making DUM-E throw metal discs that he had just cut for him to shoot down with one of his hand repulsors. By the time he had gotten sick of the shooting, the floor of the whole workshop was covered with aluminium flakes, some of them still white hot and the wall in front of him was burned in holes from missed shoots. His anger wasn't tamed at all, but he had let the worst of it out in the most _playful_ manner that he could gather.

Then he left the workshop for the penthouse while the bots cleaned the mess, downing half a bottle of scotch -just enough to feel the tingle- before picking up a couple more bottles and going down to the workshop again, sitting with his bottles in front of him, staying still for a while. The lights at the penthouse told him it was still daylight, so perhaps nothing would happen for a few hours more. Then again, who knew how the time worked at never-never-land? It could be another galaxy altogether, definitely another solar system and... in fact, delete that, because for all Break Point told about their homeland, it must be another universe. Another fucking universe where the laws of physics are completely screwed, allowing Bag of Cats to magicky his way out of trouble.

“JARVIS, start a new file. Private server.”

“Of course, Sir. Name?”

“Parallel universes. Open three files inside that one: Einstein-Rosen bridges, String theory and Quantum physics.”

He props his legs over the desk, leaning back his chair and stares at the newly created files before start talking again, so focused that he misses the green shine behind him. “'kay, JARVIS. Let's go with Einstein-Rosen bridges. It seems there are various ways to create those, even if they look theoretically impossible from Earth's perspective. Three ways, perhaps a fourth. We have the rainbow shit from Asgard, as told by Thor, which seems to be currently broken, implying it needs some kind of machinery to sustain it; also, it seems to be unidirectional and needing someone to control the crossing.” he pauses for a second, tapping his own chin and staring at the ceiling, like he could see the universe from here. “It creates some distinguishable energy pattern on the sky, similar to the northern lights, as demonstrated by Dr. Foster's research.”

“Then we have Tesseract fueled holes. The Tesseract seems to be unable to create a bridge, the direct observation says that it simply creates a bidirectional hole which can be opened and closed by anyone with access to the technology. Even more important, the holes can be crossed by anyone. The Tesseract emits Gamma rays, but the holes seem quite stable, when fed with the correct elements for support, when they are not stabilized they act like energy bombs. When the bombs explode, they do emit gamma rays, like a small nuclear detonation. The interesting fact about them is that they don't have any kind of gravitational pull. Nor matter nor energy seems to be pulled to or from them. They act like doors.” he takes a swig of his bottle “I'll need you to pour some data there, Jay. Dig S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database about the Tesseract guns from Cap's first adventure, it seems that they made people vanish as well. Oh, and, yeah, they were stable enough, even if they were made in the 40's.”

“Third way. When they left for Asgard, no portal was opened. They simply vanished. While Thor might have said that they would use the Tesseract, Loki mentioned something about the quantity of dark energy that must have been gathered and used to bring Thor to Earth while the bridge wasn't working. Dark energy might be the word they use for antimatter which would be needed to create such a reaction. That brings to the topic of antimatter containment, but I guess this way is something more advanced than bridges and holes.”

“Last, but not least, we have the possible fourth way. Loki's. I don't know if it's the third with a green sheet over it, or if it's another completely different topic. Tesseract, antimatter or... magic. Shouldn't be the Tesseract, since he doesn't have it and he can still pop in around, but... until we don't know in which field of physics can we shove the magic, I can't say if the fourth way is special or just a twist, or if something of the Tesseract stuck to Loki's energy pattern, since I don't know if he was able to do so before meeting the Tesseract.”

When he stops talking, he hears a slow clapping and he tilts his head to find... Loki standing up behind his chair, full armour on place, just like the last time. He should be surprised, but he can't find it in himself to be so. He makes a signal with his hand, telling JARVIS to stop typing. Loki's face looks less grayish, which means that he might be more dangerous. Not like he cares.

* * *

 

“Impressive, Stark. For how long have you been studying this?”

Stark looks at his clock before talking, with a bored face even if he ought to have been surprised. “Let's say it has been a week since my first contact with this particular subject.”

Loki squints slightly his eyes, like he was seeing Stark for the first time. “A week? Right after... I arrived to Midgard?”

“I read all the information regarding the Tesseract given by S.H.I.E.L.D. during the night before our battle, I have dug some extra information since then, and by digging I mean hacking, but that's it. Not my field, but nothing to be so flabbergasted 'bout. Physics is physics, even if the applications may be different.” Stark lowers his feet to the floor, turning his chair to face him. “So. Why are you here again? Got bored yet again and decided to go snooping around? Came to get a masterclass? I have high fees for teaching, it's not something I do for free.”

Funnily enough, Stark's attitude made him feel more unwelcome than anything Asgard could try, seeing someone so inferior, someone from a race of ants talking to him like that! Outrageous, insulting, unbelievable,... and also terribly endearing. In any other situation, he might have killed Stark in a blink, and if there had been any window in the workshop he might have given Stark another push but... right now, it makes him want to laugh. And Loki can't avoid a small chuckle escaping from his lips.

“Did I say something fun? If it's the case, excuse me, because I did not mean to entertain you. Seriously, I did not, at all.” Stark raises an eyebrow, drinking from the bottle with his eyes still fixed on him.

Loki laughs again before speaking “You are so deliciously enraging. Refreshing.”

Stark blinks at that, standing up and leaving the bottle on the table, next to another two before getting closer to him, barely a step between their chests. “Still waiting. Some of us are busy and have things to do with our time because, you know, not imprisoned.”

“Ohhh, but I can lose 50 years to the gaol and nothing will happen. I will be bored, sure, but I will still live.” Loki grins, and that makes Stark flinch even if his face was devoid of emotions while Loki remembered him about his mortality “You should be kinder to someone who has come to your comfort, Stark.”

“MY COMFORT?!” Stark suddenly starts yelling, and seems about to slap him even without the suit, even knowing that he can't get hurt by him “You fucking pop around like a ghost, tamper with my brain and leave a black hole in there, adulterating my memories and you say that you are acting to my comfort? That's so full of shit that I can't even begin to explain it in any term that you would get.”

He closes his eyes for a second, trying to shut the mortal's voice out, needing to order his thoughts. He brings one finger up, and that gesture seems to stop Stark. Surprised, at last, when he opens his eyes again. “Okay. We need to talk.”

Now Stark laughs, such a confusing mortal “Are you breaking up with me?”

He blinks, completely confused, and blurts a “What are you talking about, mortal?” out.

“Nevermind. Talking. Here's fine or the mighty princess needs somewhere to sit?” Stark gestures at the work place and grins happily as Loki scowls at him.

“You got the wrong heir to call princess. Any way, yes, I would sit. Lead the way.”

Stark walks to the elevator, going to the upper floor again but leading him to a couch instead of walking to the bar as Loki expected. Stark sits down and moves his hand in a gesture to indicate that he would listen. Loki squints his eyes again, the mortal seems to be specially upset. That doesn't deter him from sitting next to Stark, legs crossed and hands resting on his own knee.

“I didn't tamper with your mind. I was most gentle with your memories, given the rush, and I only blocked the ones that were related to the Void. In fact, I only blocked the memories you had from _the other side_.” Stark snickers but doesn't talk... small mercies. “The Void isn't as empty as its name makes it sound. I am afraid you might have encountered... some things... I need to examine your memories, Stark.”

“What?”

“I need to determine if someone left an imprint on you while being on the Void, Stark.”

“Who? If the Chitauri have that power I need to talk to all the other Avengers, they were as exposed as I was.”

“No. Not the Chitauri. They were naught but pawns.” Stark simply stares at him, his gaze hard and cold, the usual shine in them lost and vanished.

Loki pauses and stands up, stopping right in front of Stark.

“Stark, I need you to trust me.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Stark, I need you to trust me.”

Tony breaks laughing at that, completely out of control and nearly bending in half, his hands clutching his sides unable to even look at Loki... oh, how can he even suggest... trusting Loki... he can't see how Loki's face crumbles from serious to upset to utterly angry.

It's not until Tony stops laughing that Loki speaks again, his voice cold and powerful, able to enter someone's mind like a dagger “I am not jesting, Stark.”... at least, anyone's but Tony's, for he breaks out giggling like a teen girl, completely out of control, he ends up throwing his head back to the couch to look at Loki's face, feet on the couch and curling himself.

“For fuck's sake, you are serious. I can't believe...” Tony wipes some tears from his eyes, carelessly and still giggling.

Loki snarls and opens his mouth to talk but gets interrupted by JARVIS before he can say anything. “Sir, if I may interrupt, the compiling of the latest process is done. Do you want to proceed?” He had forbidden JARVIS from speaking unless the process was completed, so his heart was beating in happiness as soon as he heard J, same as he had forbidden him from calling anyone while Loki was over, as none could arrive on time to save him and the situation could only get weirder.

Tony lowers his feet to the floor again, trying to regain the composure “Yes, hell, good timing. What do you say, hm?”

“Affirmative, Sir, the scan is successful.”

Loki is looking alternatively at Tony and at the nearest camera, his expression changing in such an amusing way, from anger to confusion, the offence of Tony's words seemingly forgotten in favour of the mystery of JARVIS's work. Tony almost wants to start laughing again, clapping his hands over his own thighs before standing up, his stance and his gait beaming happiness.

“Best news ever, Jay. Anything else you can tell me?” He walks towards the bar, turning his back to Loki, knowing that perhaps that is the best way to get Loki to react... and so he does, growling in a low tune and following Tony like a huge predator, the sound more similar to a tiger than to any sound a human can do.

And when they reach the bar, Loki smacks his fist over the counter, making it crack under his hand and when he speaks the rage filters through his voice in a tone that could make anyone's blood freeze in their veins “I am talking to you, don't you dare ignore me, pitiful mortal.”

“Successful, as well, Sir” JARVIS says, making Tony grin before turning to Loki, the grin still plastered into place when he looks into Loki's eyes.

“I got you, Reindeer Games. Right now, JARVIS is recording you, both image and sound. Now, I can show anyone that you aren't jailed, I have proof.”

Loki blinks, looking at the ceiling again, this time like gazing at something that isn't here. “Not possible.”

Tony raises one of his eyebrows, a big grin still plastered on his face, serving himself a glass of scotch and taking a sip before speaking again “So you say.”

Loki's face changes again, from incredulity to rage and in a movement as quick as lightning he grabs Tony by the neck, lifting him upwards so just the tip of his shoes is touching the floor, just like the first time even if now there is a bar between their bodies. Loki leans closer to Tony, growling to his ear “Not possible.”

Tony gasps, moving his hand before saying, just a thread of voice “Show, J.”

Quickly, a screen lights up on the counter, playing the images from the last minute. The whole room is black but Loki's figure is showing up as a light, something like a infra-red spectrum a golden hue covered in the finest green net. There is other point of light, a circle of blueish white in Tony's chest, the arc reactor. Loki's hand lets Tony's neck go, his eyes wide open and fully focused on the image, a small shiver, almost completely undetectable running down his back. Tony leans both hands on the counter of the bar, trying to breathe evenly again, taking a step back.

“No.” Loki growls and grabs Tony's wrist “Don't you move.” Tony fights him back, trying to regain control of his arm, until his whole wrist feels bruised and like any other tug would break it completely. “I said no.” Loki says, just like he was talking about the weather.

Tony huffs and tugs again, harder than before. Loki simply lets him go, making him fall on the floor from the impulse he had given to the tug. Loki circles the bar and stops in front of him before he can stand up, cutting completely any exit route.

Loki fixes his gaze on Tony, his voice barely more than a whisper, like trying to cover his sound from JARVIS but still filled with rage and certain curiosity “How? How in Hel did you do it?”

Tony rubs his neck before speaking, not bothering to move from the floor and feeling a bit like a punching bag, whatever he does Loki will trash him if that's what he wants “I knew which scans didn't work, so I tried some others. You had to emit some energy, like each and every living matter.”

Loki blinks, opening his mouth but taking some seconds before speaking, closing and opening it again with a mix of emotions running on his face, Tony too surprised and, perhaps, too scared to read them all “Whether you want or not, Stark, I will examine your memories. Save yourself from the pain. It is important. Essential.”

Okay, that was one weird topic change, is all that Tony manages to think about, now his turn to gape and be confused “Yeah, no, absolutely no.” He moves back, a hand still over his own neck when Loki squats down, menacing.

There is some weird empathy shining on Loki's eyes as he focuses them on Tony, Loki's hands going to his shoulders to keep him on place, the thumbs pressing against the juncture of his neck and shoulder “There is no other choice, Stark.”

His green eyes go even greener as he gazes into Tony's mind, unthreading the memories that he blocked before, unravelling them before their eyes. Tony gasps, his body going slack, glad to be sitting on the floor because he would have fallen if he wasn't, his hands looking for something to grab, something to hold on, finding Loki's forearms but not quite pushing him away.

_He was going through the hole again, the light slowly going off, abandoning him as he crossed the threshold to the universe, to the infinity. Not only the Sun's light. With a last gaze to his HUD, he could see Pepper's face blinking on the screen, the call failed and the energy from the arc reactor starting to fail, JARVIS shutting the non-essential functions._

_It wasn't empty. It should have been. It was so... so... it made him furious again looking around and seeing the army that wanted to destroy the Earth. So many fucking aliens coming from the big-ass mother-fucker-ship to invade them. The weight of the nuke almost felt good against his chest, pulling him up, because even if everything was out and over, if he took the nuke close enough, if he did this, then everything would be alright. The Earth would be alright. And if he died... no, when he died, his body, his atoms, would perhaps end coming into another star, fueling life into another planet. Perhaps. His mind was too unfocused, dazed by the immensity of the space, the intensity with which he felt what was missing: gravity, sound, light, heat,... even through the Iron Man's suit he could feel... no, he couldn't feel that because it was something he was missing._

_The atmosphere into the suit kept growing weaker. He would die before watching the nuke explode. Damn. Dying and not even getting to see the explosion. Sad._

_... He should be panicking. He should spend his last seconds regretting coming up here. Yeah, that's what anyone would do. But what other choice did he have, frankly. It was_ this _or letting millions of people die. The ones in the first line would have been lucky, their death would have been fast. Just like his is going to be now. Pulverized. Burned to ashes in a second. The unlucky ones? Radiation. Helluva levels of radiation that would destroy their lives and their kids... millions, really._

_So he smiles, so lightly, a gentle thought for those who will live._

_The light inside his suit cuts off. No more power to support it. That's it. The End._

_JARVIS let his arms go, or is he offline already? The nuke is flying to the ship and his own body is falling back to the wormhole. Falling back..._

_He closes his eyes. He should pray now. He should beg to the God to let him... no, waste of time. And he has no time._

_Something manages to surprise him. There is... a light bathing him as everything shuts off, his senses dulling, his thoughts completely halted. He was waiting for something. What was it? The explosion? Who cares anymore, frankly._

_The light is warm. It doesn't feel foreign, it's a bit like when he was a kid and he stared at the Sun but it doesn't feel good, it doesn't feel clean, it doesn't feel white. Every scrap of awareness that he has fights against it. His chest feels too cold and too warm. He knows that feeling? Unsure, completely unsure. He's not... He can't... No, he has no will to fight it._

_A wave kicks his chest, sending him backwards faster._

_He's... dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came so slowly and I feel that it's short... but it's quite eventful, too.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double update today!

Stark screams and kicks when he sees through his eyes again, trying to escape from the memories, his eyes completely unfocused and still, his knuckles white from how much he is pressing his hands against Loki's arms, his short nails digging into the leather armour, and screaming until he has no more air in his lungs, until his throat sounds cracked and about to start bleeding. He hadn't heard such screams in anyone that wasn't being tortured cruelly.

Loki seems to be paralysed, his eyes also wide open, his mind trying to come back from the Void.

Shock is running through their veins, everything suddenly too bright, too noisy, too... too much.

The god is the first to snap back into full consciousness, flinching his head but not moving his body, allowing Tony to keep grabbing him. “Stark.” Loki shakes his shoulders not too gently, still holding him, a mixture of concern and need filling his tone “Stark!”

Stark manages to make a gasping noise as answer, barely more than a sigh, something as painful to hear as it must have been on his throat. Some tears slide down his face, probably because he isn't blinking, but... even more probably they are falling because of the shock.

“Stark, come back.”

JARVIS's voice starts to sound above them, dimming the lights just a bit “Sir, you are having a panic attack. You are currently at Stark Tower, penthouse level. There are no current threats to your safety.”, JARVIS must have decided to not to label Loki as a threat at this moment, seeing how he is trying to help Tony and how this has happened before without him being around “Breathe in and out steadily, Sir.”.

Loki moves one of his hands to cup Stark's face, like he is trying to decide whether to slap him or not. Somehow, Loki doubts that neither Tony or the computer will react favourably to the slap but he really doesn't know of any other way to make people respond. Ways that don't involve magic, at least. He is almost proud of not having been labelled as a threat and he doesn't want to make the computer think it twice and call someone else... and, at the same time, he refuses to ask it for help.

He sighs and looks around, trying to find anything else that could wake Stark up. He finally notices the scotch, strong odours also are able to make people regain their senses. He releases Stark's face, conjuring the tumbler to come towards his hand, holding it under Stark's nose. And the mortal blinks, grabbing him even harder if that is possible.

Stark looks at him for a moment before, surprisingly, leaning towards him, or not so surprisingly, leaning towards the glass; making a noise that is a bit too similar to a sob to allow Loki to find comfort by checking that, at last (and at least), the mortal is moving again.

The hands on his arms let go of him without any previous warning, making him duck his head to check if Stark has finally passed out. He hasn't, but his eyes are completely red, holding now his gaze with too many emotions floating inside. Luckily, there is no sign of betrayal on them, somehow he wouldn't be able to deal with the mortal feeling betrayed by his actions.

Loki has seen that look more times than he can count, when going to battle with his bro... Thor, so he goes back to what was his second nature then, helping the warriors after they fought. He wordlessly offers the glass to Stark, holding it next to his lips and allowing the mortal to take a small sip of the liquor to soothe his throat, even if surely the strong alcohol will be worse for the soreness than drinking nothing at all. Slowly, very slowly, the gaze unclouds and the eyes fixes on him, finally seeing... finally showing hurt, both emotional and physical.

The first attempt to talk ends up with a coughing mortal, his hand hovering over his mouth before finally grabbing his own throat, making soothing circles over it and gulping his saliva really loudly, his Adam's apple bobbing. “ _Why._ ” is the word that finally leaves Stark's lips, its sound almost broken beyond recognition.

Loki tilts the glass again against Stark's lips, allowing him to take another sip before taking a step back, sitting in front of Stark, the both of them on the floor “Because I had to.” His expression is almost blank, it hasn't been easy for him either. He has no desire at all to examine the Void again and he hadn't expected that he might had to do it, not at least the first time he came to the tower.

“Why.” Stark repeats, moving his arms to support his weight better, leaning towards Loki, closing the gap that he had opened with the step back.

Loki bites his lower lip, trying to order his thoughts before saying anything else “I fear you may have encountered the Mad Titan.”

“Who is that?” Stark looks up “Jay? Anything on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database?” Loki waits patiently for the computer to search for his information before speaking, wanting to know if the Midgardians know anything about Thanos.

JARVIS speaks less than a minute after “There are no records under that name, Sir.”

Loki looks up, gazing one of the cameras “His name is Thanos.”

“No records under that name either.” it's almost funny how the computer sounds upset by the lack of data, like it could really have feelings on the stuff that concerns its master.

He taps his fingers on the floor, lowering his gaze until he is looking at Stark again “The Titan is the master of the Chitauri and other creatures. He has more power than you can imagine. I fear that the light you felt was his presence. Does your computer have video records of your time _there_?”

As if it was a regular member of the conversation, the computer speaks again “Mr. Odinson, the video image is partial and it is quite corrupted.”

Loki frowns at the name he is given, but nods anyway “Could you prepare them for the next time I come around, Stark? Or have your computer sorting them through. I need to see them.”

Stark takes the tumbler again, downing the last gulp “I can't understand why are you so worried, Prancer. I am your enemy. Who cares if I am in danger?” he points at Loki, his finger stopping almost a millimetre away from Loki's chest “I'll give you a hint, you shouldn't, in any case.”

He snarls again, leaning a bit towards the mortal, leaning until the finger touches his chest “I told you before. You, darned mortal, are more dangerous than anything else in this realm.” Stark, for once, keeps his mouth shut, while he keeps leaning closer until they are face to face, anger filtering to his face “If someone got your mind, they would get your world.”

Stark's face also changes with anger, pushing his hand against his chest, like he could truly move Loki if the god wasn't willing to move “Like _you_ tried to do, you mean.”

“Of course _I_ did.” Loki huffs and stands up pacing towards the window and surprising himself by the lateness of the hour (or rather its earliness), as the Sun is already rising in the horizon. “You don't _know_ what you are fighting against, Stark.”

Stark stands up as well, bracing one of his arms on the bar “Tell me, then.”

He makes a tsk noise, the mortal is way too eager “Not before I am sure about it. I will come back tomorrow night. Have the images ready. _Get_ your mind ready, we might need to take a look at your memories again.” He vanishes without allowing the mortal to reply, going back to his prison in Asgard, laying down at his narrow bed right where his copy had been, quiet and still during the night but able to fool at any guard that might have gone to see him

The play of illusions was almost too heavy for him that night, as wandering into Stark's memories had consumed so much of his energy that he barely kept enough for the travel back to Asgard.

Asgard had been really lucky, so lucky that his whole plan had crumbled before it had affected them in any way. If the green monster hadn't hit his head with enough force to vanish the influence of Thanos, right now Asgard would be a wasteland, both Asgard and Midgard in the hands of the Mad Titan and the rest of realms would be under attack.

If it wasn't for the green monster and Stark, the end of the times would have already started, because as soon as Thanos had absolute power everyone would die.

If Stark is really under the Titan's influence, somehow... then the fate is decided.

He will have to play his cards with the mortal really carefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the chapters might come a bit faster, as now I know where are we going. At last, I have some planned plot! It took me just 11000 words of rambling...
> 
> Thanks everyone for your comments, kudos and subscriptions, I am really surprised by the numbers.
> 
> Quick question, how would you feel if I changed the name of the work to "The emptiness of the Void"?


	7. Chapter 7

When Loki disappeared, he had JARVIS running the scan again, just to know for sure that Loki had really left the tower. And gone he was. He didn't know if he should feel relieved or even more stressed. Unable to decide, he goes down to the workshop again to check on the scan that finally made the trick – being able to record a... _mage_ (is that even the word? what's this again, is he playing some role-playing game? he has all the characters laid on the table, that's for sure.), and even more a mage who wants to go undetected is a big thing on his book. ' _Science beats magic, in your face, Bambi!_ ' is the thought on his mind as he crosses the doors of the workshop.

JARVIS shows him that it's a broader radiation scan, something barely different from what they were using while trying to detect the Tesseract... the only difference being Loki not actually emitting dangerous radiation. In fact, as he checks JARVIS's numbers, Loki seems to be _absorbing_ the cosmic radiation of the room, perhaps to use it to support his _magic_ , as opposed to the reaction making his arc reactor glow. There was no explanation at all for the colours, though. Well, it made too much sense as it was, better not think _much_ about the missing pieces of the puzzle, before all the data begins to crumble between his fingers.

He looks at the numbers for a while, taking notes on them, before taking a look to the clock on the screen. It is early but he knows that Pepper will be already awake, probably thinking about what should she do now. It's Saturday, he knows as much, so she won't be having any meeting because all the offices will be closed and she will like to come back home.

“Jay, babe. Two tasks for you. If Thor -or any other space Viking- ever drops by, scan them as well, I'd like to have more alien tests on the radiation stuff. And call Pep, please.”

“Right away, Sir.”

The screen of his computer instantly lights up with a Pepper's picture, dialling. She picks it up almost immediately, she must have been waiting for his call, her phone nearby.

He is almost glad when she answers the call without video feed, because he is sure about being quite unkempt, and she'd worry about his well-being.

“Good morning, Pep. Were you awake?”

“Yes, Tony, I was. How was the day? How are you?”

“Perfectly fine, sweet. Jay can now detect that _glitch_ and prevent it from happening, should the need arise.” He waves his hand, because even if she can't see him, he can't speak without gesturing.

“Oh. Good! Is it all over then?”

“No, not completely, but you can come back.” He pauses for a second, resting his head on his arms over the desk, his arms muffling a bit his voice “And by saying that you can come back I mean I totally want you home.”

Pep remains silent for a moment, uncertainty filling her voice as she asks “Are you sure you are okay? Doesn't sound like you are.”

He stares at the screen and spins in his chair, almost huffing, because he has been waiting for hours to call Pepper and now she is treating him like he was crazy “Yes, Pep, I am okay, don't be so. You sound like I was four and alone and I couldn't take care of myself. Mind you, I was able to do so when I was that age too. I am only a bit, or rather a lot, sleepless and a bit exhausted. That's why I ramble and ramble. I need you. Shut me up?”

“Tony... Oh, Tony... Go to bed right now. Catch some sleep before I arrive. It's an order, Mr. Stark.” Her voice is caring and sweet, with just enough firmness to make Tony listen to her, really listen to her. He sighs lightly, rubbing his forehead against his arms “Will that be all, Miss Potts?”

“Yes. Go. See you soon.”

He gestures JARVIS to cut the call, getting back on his feet and fetching a green smoothie that U was bringing over (chlorophyll? has _seriously_ such a long time passed since the last time he had a proper meal that U went back to the fighting-against-blood-poisoning recipes?), stopping just enough to pet the robot. “Thanks, U. I'll drink it on my way to bed, don'tcha worry.” And so he does, tilting the plastic bottle to drink from it while he walks to the elevator, the doors opening as soon as he reaches them, JARVIS has such a perfect timing.

Sometimes, just sometimes, he is a bit jealous of JARVIS. His most perfect creation – if you ask Tony, JARVIS is truly the peak of humanity – and it is something that can easily surpass him at most times, because JARVIS doesn't need to sleep, he doesn't commit mistakes, he doesn't... he wouldn't fail his judgements as often as he does if he would listen to JARVIS more frequently, really. If some day someone created something as JARVIS but with a completely different target, such as world domination, the world would definitely be doomed. Shall he never think that around Loki, just in case. Frankly, one JARVIS would be way more frightening than a whole army of aliens.

And with that thought, he arrives to the penthouse and JARVIS opens the elevator's door for him. He's carrying the bottle that DUM-E gave him, almost empty from two big gulps, on his hand and he quickly leaves it over the coffee table while walking towards the master bedroom. Sleeping really sounds like a great idea, now that Pepper mentioned it. Perhaps later he can take her out for lunch, somewhere he can eat like a... an... Asgardman?

“JARVIS? How are space Vikings called, do they have a name at all?”

“According to the ancient myths and the information provided by Mr. Odinson to S.H.I.E.L.D., the proper name would be Asgardians, Sir.”

“Asgardian. Ah. Fine, I guess. They are quite the pain in the ass, so it's alright that they mention it in their collective name. Reserve a table for two, somewhere I can eat as much as an Asgardian but still look like a regular, decent human being in front of Pep.”

“Consider it done, Sir.”

He goes to the shower, needing a speedy cleaning before daring to put a finger on his bed, specially if that's a bed Pep is going to visit later. More so, if he wants her to stay in that bed. Or even have her looking at that general direction. It's almost incredible how her hygiene standards aren't falling off after being with him for so long, but she won't even consider hugging him while he is _just a bit_ grimy from the workshop.

He almost collapses to the bed after the shower, he is completely spent.

* * *

He wakes up to Pepper gently touching his hair, she is sitting on the bed and smiling down at him with such a bright, pleasant smile. He can't help but wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her down against his chest in a loving embrace.

“Hi,” he whispers, burying his face in her strawberry blonde hair and taking in her scent, so sweet and so flowery, his hands wandering on her back “how was the flight?”

Pepper giggles, kissing his neck and caressing his cheek before answering “Oh, it was pretty amazing. I happen to have this wonderful private jet at my disposition, so I didn't have to wait at the airport... you know, it's just the regular stuff, because my boss is millionaire and so kind, but it never ceases to amaze me.” She kisses his cheek now, nuzzling it so lightly before resting her forehead against his “How was it at home?”

He pulled back a bit at the question, moving her a bit to make her sit in his lap “Yeah, right. That. JARVIS managed to record him on our servers, both voice and image. I'm having a bit of trouble coming to accept this, but the crazy over-lord seems to truly want to help. Dunno, babe. I guess I'll be giving him a bit of slack 'till I see what he's up to.”

Pepper frowns so lightly, looking into his eyes with a no nonsense look on them “Tony... You shouldn't do this. He is a maniac.”

He shifts uncomfortably under her, trying to order his thoughts “I know, babe. He's a maniac and I can never be sure about anything at all around him, God of Lies and so on, but... I can't really tell anyone, y'know? S.H.I.E.L.D. will throw me to a cell, I can't contact Thor or his la-la-land, so what's the point on not seeing what he wants?” Really, who would deny a chance to learn about the galaxy from one of the people who can travel across the space, even if the guy in question is batshit crazy...

She simply nods, caressing his face again “I trust you, Tony.” The _please, don't make me regret it_ hung unsaid in the air, making the atmosphere between them heavier until Tony leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that made promised that nor his voice nor his mind would really carry – the promise to be careful, the promise of putting himself and, thus, their relationship above everything else. Because, no matter what or how, someday she would regret trusting him and he can only wish that whenever that happens, he will be able do something to make her return to him. Pepper's lips answering to his make his mind shut up, focusing only in the moment before him; Pepper, sitting on his lap and kissing him like she had found water after walking across the desert, would be able to shut his mind off at any time.

* * *

When he woke up again, hours later, he was alone in bed. Pepper surely must be back to taking care of the company business in her office. Probably she already has a nice stack of papers for him to sign, a lot of stuff about the meetings she's been having during the whole week and there must also be another stack from the R&D department.

God, how he hates the piles of paper. He sighs at the simple thought, making an unhappy, whiny noise. “Jay, where's Pep?” If J says office, he's running to have another shower just to have twenty more minutes to himself. That's it.

“She is composing dinner at the kitchen, Sir.”

He opens his eyes comically, his mind running at top speed trying to find a reason for it “She is... making dinner? Did I miss any special date, Jay? Anniversary, something of the sorts? We had an anniversary this year already, didn't we? You told her I made reservations at a restaurant?”

He could feel JARVIS rolling his eyes at him, even if J didn't have a physical body “Of course I told Miss Potts about the restaurant plans, Sir. She decided to have dinner at home so you can be feed properly, homemade for once and a quite healthy portion. You didn't miss any special date, according to the calendar that was scheduled for me.”

He sits up on bed, trying to decide what to do next. He should probably wear something, instead of striding to the kitchen wearing just his underwear – boxers and undershirt. Definitely, he should wear something casual, at the very least. He goes to his walk-in-wardrobe, picking some dark jeans and a t-shirt, a simple black one instead of wearing a band t-shirt.

Still in silence, he walks down to the kitchen, where he finds Pepper humming softly to herself, cutting carrots to put them in a pot next to herself. He wraps his arms around her from behind.

“Hey.”

“Are you already awake? I thought you'd be gone for at least a couple of hours more!” She complains with a laugh, leaning into his arms.

“I promise I will let you work and I will not steal the food from you, Pep. At least, while you are cutting veggies.” He smirks, kissing her lips briefly and stealing a piece of carrot nevertheless.

She bats his hand away “Tony! Stop!”

JARVIS talks then, sounding very much like he had cleared his throat to gain their attention “Sir, you have a visitor at the workshop.”

He stares at Pepper, letting the words from JARVIS sink in. Has he detected Loki, or has Loki asked to see him? In any case, being called by the god should be good. It's not like he is slipping uninvited into the private parts of the tower... actually, not invading the zones he shares with someone else. That's something.

Pep huffs, kissing him back and shoving him away with her hips “Go. I will have JARVIS calling you when I am done with dinner. If he isn't gone by then, you can kick him out because I am not allowing this dinner to go stale by the whims of a maniac.”

He quickly nods, leaving the kitchen towards the workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long! I kept getting distracted by the later chapters... I don't know how long it will take to get to the point where things will change but I have three chapters almost finished of the true beginning of Loki and Tony's relationship (*waves at the smut chapter*).
> 
> I hope that Tony's adoration for Pep isn't heavy and boring to anyone but that's what was happening at the end of The Avengers. Things will start to change... soonish, slowly but surely.
> 
> Also, the other Avengers will start appearing _soon_.
> 
> As always, I'm open to suggestions and comments, the story isn't set on stone.


	8. Chapter 8

When Loki pops up in the workshop to find it empty, he frowns heavily. Where is the mortal? Had he not made clear that he would be coming to see him later? He stays still for half a minute, like he was frozen in the middle of the room. Perhaps Stark is at the toilet? Or maybe he is sleeping. Stark seems to have a tendency to work himself to exhaustion and collapse on bed, from what he's picking up on the mortal's behaviour. It's not so different from himself, actually – or from his behaviour on his younger days, when he was learning to control his magic; he was always reading books to learn, visiting his tutors or trying new, funny and mischievous things. Oh, how much fun he had had before people learnt that it was him the one behind all the trickery and started dubbing him as the God of Mischief. That stung for a while, before he started using it a shield to deflect anything they said.

“Computer, where is Stark?” He asks at last, slightly unsure of the response (or lack of it) he might get from the computer. Perhaps it only answers to Stark.

The voice quickly answers, its voice gentle and extremely polite “Good evening, Mr. Odinson. Sir is at the penthouse, but currently unavailable. Would you like me to notify him about your presence at the workshop?”

“Please, do that.” He sits on one of the corners of the desk, checking everything around him while he waits for Stark to come down to the workshop. Busy, uh? What was Stark doing?

“Sir is currently on his way to the workshop.” The voice notifies him after a moment.

“My gratitude, computer.” He says, turning his head to a light sound as the door opens and Stark strides in.

The mortal is looking good, perhaps as much as he did on the plane the first time that they met. His short and spiky hair is a bit dishevelled but he looks rested and... happy. “Sup, Bambi?”

“Excuse me?” Loki frowns, not understanding at all what Stark means. The Allspeak can't deal with most of the words that Stark uses when he chit-chats, frankly, and while in long sentences he might be able to grasp the meaning of the missing words, in short sentences it's completely impossible.

Stark itches lightly his goatee, walking towards his desk without really staring at Loki “Uh. How are you doin', y'know, I was just being nice and so on, since you seem so intent on coming here every day. Or rather, every night.”

“Oh.” Never in a million years he would have thought that in such a short time the cocky mortal would be exchanging pleasantries with him. “As fine as I can be, thank thee. You look well rested. Did you have time to prepare what I asked for? Your computer informed me about you being engaged in other activities.”

“Nah. I was not exactly busy, and JARVIS has it all ready, don't you, buddy? Though I will be _engaged in other activities_ in a while, though. My...” He watches the mortal struggle trying to find the appropriate word “Partner is getting some dinner ready and she'll kill me if I'm late. Not even you'd dare be late if she was making something for you.”

Loki almost smiles at the way that the mortal speaks. So lightly, though he seems to be filled with sentiment towards his significant other. It's weird to see him dropping almost all his charade, though it's surprisingly pleasant. “Shall we get down to business, then?”

Stark sits down on his desk chair, touching the screens to make them light up. “C'mon, Jay, get the files loaded on.”

He conjures a chair to sit next to Stark, and while the mortal squints his eyes at the sudden aparition of the chair, he says nothing about it - small mercies - probably because he knows that it would derail their conversation.

“C'mon, JARVIS, get the show on the road!”

“Immediately, Sir.”

The images started playing on the screen, from different angles making it look almost like a 3D projection. It started on Midgard with the mortal's flight towards the hole.

When they crossed the border to the other side of the galaxy, the outer cameras started failing quickly. First they got pixellated, then they lost the colours to lose completely the signal in less than 30 seconds, leaving only the cameras from the HUD. Loki quickly understood it, as the voice – JARVIS, the computer was more of a useful than anything he ever saw, acting like a royal butler but undoubtedly more loyal and capable of understanding the meaning behind the words of the mortal – in Stark's memory had said, the suit was shutting off, most of its functions going offline.

The army of The Other looked impressive from the mortal's cameras, seeing frontally for the first time the huge mothership spawner and the leviathans, that were luckily ignoring the man in the metal suit as much as they were ignoring the asteroids in their way across the galaxy. What they didn't know was that this man was far deadlier than anything they had encountered on their journey.

If he focused on the inner camera – why hadn't this one been shown as they were flighting from Midgard? - Stark's eyes were closed shut almost all the time. Perhaps not in fear, perhaps what happened was that the space was way too enormous for his mind to take it in, and even if his face was almost glowing with the soft sheen of sweat running down his face - he did have a good excuse, he had been fighting an army.

When his eyes were open he tilted his head, he sought the nuke with his eyes, always murmuring something between his lips but even more before releasing it.

And then the light that had worried him shone bright. From Stark's memory it could have been anything - the explosion was a reasonable explanation, none would have given it a second thought. But from the camera... The light was purple, a completely unnatural colour in that part of the galaxy.

“Okay, what's that? There's no pulsar there, nothing that can emit that kind of light.” Stark asked, touching the screen with his fingers to freeze the image, moving them to focus on the top of the mothership, where the light was shinning from an asteroid.

“ _That_ is the material nightmares are made of.” He answered, closing his eyes and breathing in and out slowly a couple of times before conjuring an image he never thought he's show to any other person.

Under the tip of his fingers, raised as high as Stark's had been, a small planetoid formed. Nothing but grey rock, riffs and valleys completely empty and devoid of life, but for a small place where a light, a purple light, guided everything in. The image zoomed in to show a face - purple skin that looked like it had been scarred, a divided chin, eyes of a blue colour that should have not been possible...

“Okay, forget my previous question. Let's focus on another: Who on hell is that?”

The need to warn the mortal took over anything else, spurting a “He must not be named!” before giving any explanation on the fact.

The mortal actually laughed at that, making him blink in confusion “'kay, Potter. Did the purple light from Voldemort kill me or what?”

“Where is the jest now?” He sneered at Stark, feeling his patience growing thin.

“Jesus, Bambi, there is a series of books where everyone calls the bad guy as he-who-must-not-be-named. You cannot simply drop that onto me and think that I will not laugh.” The mortal was rubbing his belly, like trying to silence his laughter that way.

“It's serious, mortal.” A low growl made Stark get a bit more serious, even if he didn't think that it could be a long lasting effect.

“Fine, fine. Just... give it another name, will you?”

“I told you about him before and after I did, his mind started looking for me again and I can't fool him any more into thinking that I am dead. That's the Mad Titan if you must give him a name.”

“That? The mind-controlling bitch? It's not like I was any close, was I?”

“He is an Eternal, a Titan, Stark. You could not imagine the vastness of his powers and his potential. You should not treat it lightly.” The scolding sentences slip off of his lips before he can avoid them, feeling a bit too frustrated by the mortal.

“Titan. Is that supposed to mean something, JARVIS?”

The voice quickly filled in with information “The titans were a race of deities in Greek mythology, Sir. There are various myths regarding their involvement in the creation of the world and they were known by their strength, which gave the meaning to the titan word.”

“Your machine is surprisingly correct.” He says, looking at the camera at ease and rising a hand to stop Stark from talking, because he could feel the mortal breathing in to interrupt him “I never knew the human race kept such a good account on history.”

What he never expected was the machine to interrupt him, because it seemed to have better manners than all the mortals he ever met “Sir, there is an incoming call from Director Fury.”

“Can't do. Busy.”

“There is more. The Mad Titan made a pact in the past. It is part of why he is known by such moniker. He is so far gone from good that not even Death wants to keep him.”

Stark frowns at the last sentence, moving to unfreeze the screen again.

He could swear to have heard someone clearing their throats before the machine spoke again, its voice going from neutral to slightly judging – how could a mortal create a machine like that? “Sir. Director Fury insists on speaking with you. It seems to be an urgent matter.”

“Nope. He may leave a message. Mute.” Stark moves his fingers, moving the scene back a bit, just to restart it back where he was before JARVIS's interruptions.

The last scene shows him falling back through the hole, the light not following him, fortunately. Everything shuts off at the same time that the Midgard's sky is seen again, the Sun's light making everything turn bright.

They both stop their small movements. It's almost like they had forgotten how to breathe.

They are so focused on the last image that they don't even notice the door getting open. They do notice the voice, though “Tony. Don't mute JARVIS while you are locked in the workshop. Go upstairs right now. You have a phone call and then a dinner to attend, if you haven't forgotten about it.”

“Hey, Pep. Got a bit busy here. Gimme a sec, will you?”

Loki looks up at the woman. She is undoubtedly beautiful, she's tall (perhaps taller than Stark, at least while she was wearing these heels), her features are delicate and resolute, and her hair looks a bit like the midsummer fires in Vanaheimr, she is completely flawless. She is exotic enough that she could belong to any other realm. She is purposely ignoring him, though, she hasn't even taken a glance at him even if she appears to be furious at him, merely for being there – he can't really blame her, he did try to invade her planet, after all, but he still feels a pang of hatred for her because of the way she is ignoring him. What should feel weird is the seemingly easy acceptance of Stark, but It didn't feel weird and perhaps that screwed his perception about how forgiving can the mortals be.

“A sec?” She says, her hands moving into an involuntary position, like she was holding a folder between her arms. “Fine, the second is over. Come on.”

Stark is looking at him, with an expression that covers quite a lot of emotions – a slight shame, for seeing him getting scolded like a toddler; an apology, possibly because he is about to leave in this same moment, like the topic isn't important enough for staying; and some kind of humour, like he had predicted this reaction the very same moment he blocked the call. He probably did know it, though. The small smirk that the man was featuring made him think about the times when he was young, when he still had some friends that he could call his own.

Loki tips his head, disappearing from the room with another small smirk of his own.


	9. Chapter 9

Loki's smirk before he disappeared made him freeze in place for a second. It was, certainly, a moment that would haunt his memories whenever he tried to forget that Reindeer Games had been... a _person_ before he went down the road to try to conquer Earth – his face had become younger, almost innocent, a bit like it had happened on the Quinjet when the storm started. That had been amusing, even if he couldn't enjoy the moment properly... because he had read the files and he had understood what Loki meant – that Thor would appear to take Loki from their hands... and damn if Thor isn't a threat as big as Loki in regards to Earth's safety. Yeah, Point Break might be like a puppy, but he's also someone who was raised to be a king in a completely different planet, and someone who is way older and way more powerful than they are.

“Talking to Fury: After or before dinner?” Tony asks to Pepper with a sigh, as soon as she drags him to the elevator, the doors of the workshop closing behind him. Tony knew that sound, JARVIS had blocked the doors for the following hours, if he pissed Pepper off, he'd have no place to hide.

“Before, of course.” Pepper answered with a small sigh “Try to cut it short if it isn't a matter of life or death, though, or the dinner will get ruined.”

“You heard her, J, patch me with Fury asap.”

The doors opened to the penthouse, Tony walking to the kitchen to watch Pep getting everything ready while JARVIS calls Fury.

“Stark!” is the growl he receives as a greeting. Getting Fury all hot and bothered shouldn't be so amusing, because one day it will backlash on him and... yeah, that won't be pretty.

“Yeah, yours truly on the line. I'll keep to myself the rant on why I think that this is a horrible time to call, so late on the night, ain't I a hard-working person that deserves some time to rest; and the rant about my consultation times 'cause Pep asked me to keep it short. What's it?”

“Barton's debriefing is over. We need your... input on some technological issues. It needs to be done by _yesterday_. It's a matter of national security.”

“Oh, so then it can wait one more day, if it's waited for so long. I'll drop by S.H.I.E.L.D.'s HQ tomorrow... Don't wait for me too early, don't come to pick me up, you know I love to drive my cars.” He gestures JARVIS to cut the call. “Put it on schedule, though, J. I'm interested in seeing what happened.” He walks to Pepper, sitting on the counter with ease. “So I'm all yours now, honey. What's this wonderful dinner that I smell?”

“Curry. JARVIS fetched some recipes to find the most appealing one. Go to the table, c'mon!” She pats the small of his back, pushing him off of the counter with her brightest smile.

He makes an humming noise of approval, winking at her as he leaves the room “You spoil me by pampering me so much, babe. Cannot possibly live without you.”

“Hope you never have to find out!” Pepper laughs, her laughter chiming like the bells on a summer's day, winking back.

* * *

 

The dinner had been lovely, the food almost as good as the meals Jarvis had cooked for him when he was a kid. He ended up being so full that he could just cuddle Pepper while pretending to watch a film, some mindless romantic comedy. Pretending, because he fell asleep on the couch soon after it started, startling himself awake when Pep started laughing.

She had only noticed he was asleep then, making JARVIS pause the film and getting him to bed. All the sleepless nights he had had before and after the battle were finally hitting him, he was sleepy almost 24/7 now.

He slide into the sheets, tucking Pepper in with him, wrapping an arm around her to keep her by his side. Some part of his mind had grown overly attached, after everything, and it was only at ease when he kept her somewhere he could reach her.

* * *

 

He woke up alone, though. When JARVIS cleared the windows, he could see that the sun was already as high as his room at the penthouse.

“Good morning, Sir. It's ten twenty-seven, Sunday morning. You have three missed calls from Director Fury, who left messages in a growingly threatening way; one missed call from Dr. Banner who kindly asked me to remind you to call him whenever the time is suitable for you two; and one scheduled appointment at S.H.I.E.L.D., to be made effective as soon as you woke up.”

He groans, burying his face in the pillow. “Let Fury know that I am going, start the coffee, warm me the shower. Not necessarily in that order.” He rolled out of the bed, wrapping himself in the sheet and going to the bathroom to get ready for the day, even if he didn't want to leave behind the bed's warmth.

Fifteen minutes after and looking almost awake, he wanders to the kitchen wearing black jeans, old leather boots and an AC/DC shirt. He rests his arm over the coffee machine as it pours the liquid, the scent filling him. He drowned the first coffee, almost scalding his throat even if JARVIS prepared it at a perfect temperature, letting the mug back into the machine for another fill.

He tilts his head to say “Tell Pep I'm going to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“Yes, Sir. She is aware and reminds you that helping S.H.I.E.L.D. is helping yourself, specially under the circumstances you are facing.” JARVIS answers a moment later.

“Okay. I'll come back as soon as I can, anyway.” He says, going down to the garage, where his cars are waiting. That's a good thing of the tower, he has a different workshop for his cars so they won't be damaged again by any test on his suits. Hopefully. Because, let's face it, he can probably destroy half the building in an unfortunate accident.

He takes a black Porsche cabriolet, driving fast to S.H.I.E.L.D., even if he doesn't particularly wants to arrive so soon, he simply loves speeding in the open cars, feeling the wind on his face... it's an amazing sentiment, a bit like flying but so different from actually flying in the suit.

He parks at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s headquarters, quickly going to Fury's office. He knows his way too well, the debriefings he has gotten there had been almost engraved into his skull – and he has a feeling about agent Hill wanting to fulfil that part if he ever speaks about that sensation aloud.

He even knocks on the door before entering the office. Amazing manners.

Barton is sitting on a chair in front of Fury, they seemed to have been chatting in quiet voices because he heard nothing at all from the other side.

“Hi, Birdie, hi, Fury.” He says, entering like he had been invited. He had, after all, hasn't he? If he wasn't, then Fury shouldn't have called him in.

“Stark! 'bout time you came, a minute more and I'd've send to get your ass down here.”

He shrugs it off, even if Fury's barks always make him feel bad, this man actually helped him, even if his organization is a bit of a pain in the ass “Cry me a river, I'm here, go ahead and tell me why.”

Fury actually stares at him for a half a minute, like he wanted to tie him up and whip him until he forgot all his snarky remarks “You're here 'cause agent Barton's been recallin' about his time with the Asgardian motherfucker. And he's got all over S.H.I.E.L.D.'s intel, but they couldna break through yours. So I'm gonna ask you to fix it.”

“Wait, what? You want me to encrypt your code? Seriously?” He says as soon as he snaps out of the almost complete breakdown he's having. That's bigger than anything he ever thought Fury – or anyone, really – would place on him. So much trust.

“It's not like you can't break it already, Stark, I know that you get into my database almost every day for shits and giggles!”

“No, no, never for shits and giggles. It's for serious stuff. Like cereal recommendations. Everyone needs that.” Tony nods to himself, still lost in thoughts.

“Stark, I'm warning you, you better do this and do good!” A menacing finger hovers pointing to his face as Fury stands up, towering his height over him, and he almost feels compelled to nod and say a ' _Sir, yes, Sir!_ ' in a army's style. “Talk to the IT guys, they'll lend you a space to work on.”

“Do I have to stay here?” He is suddenly worried. What if Loki wants to locate him and ends up... here? Do they have any clue? What did Barton really tell them? He knew that Loki wanted to capture his mind? He was Loki's pet for long enough, if the guy had been planning to get him all along... which came to the revealing though... Loki actually had him now. At least, the part of him that was intrigued about the God's whereabouts.

“Yes, Stark, and you better work fast and not leave any backdoor. We're trusting here you can enter through a closed door yourself, but not many other's have that skill.” Fury sits down again, sighing as he sits.

“Yeah, sure. On it, will have it asap.” He turns and goes to the door, everything have been said.

“I'll join ya, if ya don't mind.” Clint says, standing up and following out of the room.

“Hey, yeah, okay, that's fine, Birdie. How are you?” He gives a couple of steps walking backwards, twisting his upper body to talk to Clint more easily.

“Got a helluva migraine going on here. 'Tasha hit me hard. I think she kinda deleted half of my time there. Such luck.” Clint rubs the back of his head while talking, like proving a point.

“Well, well, she did what she had to, didn't she? Not like you did anything to piss her off, did you?” he laughs, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

“Wot? Nah, man. Who'd piss 'Tasha and still be alive? I could only think 'bout Thor and Hulk. And not by far, uh. She'd kill 'em in their sleep. Or breakfast. Or break time. Pretty much every time and every where and they all know it.”

A shadow moves to their left, making them both snap their necks to look at it. Natasha walks besides them, her eyebrow going up just like she had asked a question, which Clint totally answers by zipping his mouth. These two... there's something going on between them.

“Yeah, talking about your awesomeness. Do you have powers to summon her or what?” he asks to Clint, turning again, almost stepping over Natasha. That would have been his last mistake in this life, and possibly in afterlife too, because she would send him straight to the other corner of the universe if he ever dared to touch her in any way. Clint just rolls his eyes, before nodding briefly.

She is guiding them to the IT's space, for Clint never once shows any intent of changing the course of their steps.

“When did I become so special that I deserve, not one, but two super spies on my heels?”

“Stark, you are one of the greatest consultants S.H.I.E.L.D. ever had, the greatest in modern times.” Natasha says, breaking her silence. “We like you, even if you think we don't.”

“I see how men fall at your feet to be interrogated.” He grins as they arrive to the IT's room and Tony sits down in the chair, Natasha and Clint standing behind him. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

* * *

 

Three hours later, with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security vastly improved – but still nowhere close to JARVIS's level, or with any code that would give them a benefit trying to pry open his own defences, he stands up. He's sure that Natasha has been learning from everything she did, even if she surely hasn't understood it all, she is pretty awesome at technical stuff as well. Clint wasn't even looking, he just sat in the desk and talked to him occasionally, trying to talk him into making a new bow or new arrows that Clint can use, because now they are team mates.

“I somehow feel like I should bill the three hours to S.H.I.E.L.D. in formation concept.” He grins sheepishly at Natasha.

“You wish, Stark, you wish.” She pats his shoulder lightly.

“Drop by the tower sometime, Barton, we can take a look at bows and arrows.”

“Will do, mate, will do!” Clint is smiling like he is the happiest person at S.H.I.E.L.D., and well, he probably is at the moment.

“Send a note to Pep before, or I might be elsewhere, that's it.”

He quickly drives back to the tower, before Fury can command him to do something else, going straight to the penthouse to grab something to eat before going down to the workshop.

“Sir, as per schedule, I remind you of Dr. Banner's wish to be phoned.”

“Oh, call him, Jay!” He's still going to the kitchen, grabbing a pack of cookies and a coffee.

“Hey!” the voice that greets him thirty seconds later sounds happy.

“Brucey! I missed you, how are you, big guy?” probably the sound of his munching won't get carried away on the line, but if it doesn't, well, Bruce knows him well enough.

“You are eating. Tony, for how long have you been locked into the workshop?”

“Oi! I have barely been there in the last days. I had dinner with Pep yesterday and I just came back from being a good guy at S.H.I.E.L.D. and everything!”

“Wow. Everything is okay?”

He frowns lightly before nodding to himself “Actually, yes. Everything's fine. Surprisingly. When are you coming back? Any plans already?”

“Yes. Things are going better than expected. I think that in a couple of weeks I'll be back.” There is a small hesitation before he speaks again “If you still want to, of course.”

“Brucey!!! How can you even say that??? I offered from the bottom of my heart, don't doubt it even for a second!!”

“Okay, okay, Tony, I believe you.” There is a small sigh. “Well, I have a lot to work on to come back soon. Keep being good, Tony.”

“I will. You, do your best. See ya soon.”

“See you.”

Bruce hangs up and he goes to lay on the couch, suddenly the wish to go to the workshop gone. He sulks on the couch, drinking his coffee... thinking about how lucky he has been, how his accidents almost never truly injured him... permanently, that's it – because his arc reactor wasn't something he could call an accident. He sighs and grabs a tablet, diving again into the information about the accident that created Hulk. Anything for Bruce.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I think that this one is the longest chapter for now... No Loki, but he'll be back soon! :D


	10. Chapter 10

He is sitting on his lounge at the gaol legs folded over it, watching idly how the wardens move prisoners from one cubicle to another. Perhaps, if he leaves today, he shall be missed, even if he doesn't think that they'll dare to move him anywhere else as they think that his magic is confined as long as he is stuck inside this golden cubicle.

In the very end, he decides to leave. The wardens would not dare to even take a look at his cubicle without an express order from Odin... and if anyone with enough talent for magic did decide to visit him, he'd feel them crossing the golden field. In any case, he can set himself on the loose and _Frigga_ knows it. And she's the only one who would visit him, so... he won't be missed. At all. Perhaps it would take them days to discover that he's truly gone, if he decided to disappear.

A small green light shows on the tip of his fingers, and _poof_ , he's gone leaving a copy of himself on the cubicle.

“Good evening, Mr. Odinson.” The machine promptly greets him, as soon as he appears in the workshop.

He stays still, annoyed by the name but fascinated by the flawless manners of something that had been created by the hands of one of the most reckless human he ever met “Good evening, machine. Has your master left any message for me?”

“No, he has not. Sir is currently at the penthouse – however, he is quite absorbed into his job and taking no heed to anyone. If you would wish to speak to him, it would be most useful for you to go upstairs.”

He chuckles, looking up “Ha. He took your voice again? You have been waiting for someone to come and poke your master, have you not? Nevertheless, I'm grateful for the advice.”

“Seems to be an obvious piece of advice, Mr. Odinson, but I could have actually poked him – had I needed to do it.” The machine now sounds as cocky as its creator, making him grin. Seriously, such a display of personality for a thing created on Midgard.

The workshop's doors open besides him, same as the elevator's. He knows the way, as the first night he had taken the mortal to his bedroom. Though, when the doors open at the penthouse...

…Loud.

**Loud**.

So bloody loud that he doesn't know how the windows haven't shattered yet, he can see them trembling, and the force of the sound is almost enough to make _his_ ears hurt. Music? Is _that_ music? There is a rhythm, there are voices, they appear to sing but... what have mortals done with the old tunes...?

Dear Yggdrasil, in what pit has he fallen?

_Now_ he isn't sure if Stark had really taken the voice of his mechanical servant or if he simply _can't_ hear over the damn noise. Wouldn't be a shock.

“Stark?”

The mortal is sitting on a high stool next to the windows, his legs crossed over the surface, hands working in the blue screens that pop up with information as Stark needs them – he looks more focused than he has ever seen before. Stark's back is turned to him, and it seems like he hasn't heard him, he hasn't turned, hasn't moved even a millimetre as Loki spoke.

“Stark!” Now he yells while he walks even closer behind him, but Stark seems to have drifted away from the world for good. Strings of figures and words that the Allspeak won't translate float around in the blue screens around the mortal, and he has that face... Loki doesn't know if he dares to interrupt him because he seems to be understanding some kind of arcane knowledge that won't be his again if his concentration gets broken at this moment.

So Loki goes and sits down at one of the armchairs, looking out of the window. It is of no use to continue yelling at Stark, if Stark feels that the new discovery never broke through because of him... the consequences could be devastating.

The lights blink in the city under the tower and the tune becomes naught but a string of thought to follow. It's easy to understand now why the mortal is using it to focus – even he, a complete foreigner to the sound, can use it.

Suddenly, the door to the balcony opens, and he goes out without really thinking about what is he doing. He can still hear the tune, even when the door closes, but his brain has almost blocked out the sound.

It is strange, how small the stars are seen from here, how few of them are shining in this sky. Are they even the same stars? They look like nothing, next to Asgard's, even next to the other realms – but how could it be any different, when Midgard is sitting at the middle of Yggdrasil and their view of the stars must be blocked by the other realms? He sits on the floor hugging his knees, like a child, mesmerised by the lights; slightly afraid of the Void that lies beneath them but still attracted to them.

Why has Asgard dedicated such a short time to learn about Midgard's issues? It is almost a completely unknown realm to him, and he has studied everything he could find about the Nine Realms for longer than anyone he knows... and somehow, there was more information about Svartálfheimr, a dead realm, than about Midgard.

Perhaps it was for the best, because the lack of information made it appear as dull to anyone studying the realms so none would have wanted to come here. He had never wanted to come here before, which should be good because the mortals do really need that protection, they are hopeless and defenceless, they die so easily...

Not all of them, though. The realm's mightiest heroes make a good defence, but it's not a perfect one, had he desired to win that battle, he could have done it. He could have bested Thor and the shield bearer that shares almost all his capacities with Thor, and then his only source of worry would have been the green colossus and Stark.

Some time later – he doesn't know how much but the stars have moved while he was lost in his thoughts, so it must have been a long time, the music stops and the doors open again.

“Hi.” The mortal sounds – and looks – totally spent, like he had run all around the borders of the realm and back again, his hair is spiking in weird directions and there are prints of his own fingers on his chin, like he had been staring at something with his head propped on his hand for a long time; his eyes showing a expression that is between happiness and weariness, just like he is trying to come back to earth after something big.

He doesn't bother in standing up, but he nods his head towards the mortal before answering, tilting his head again to look at the stars “Greetings.”

“Heard you were looking for me. You didn't poke me.”

“No, I did not.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Both of them stay quiet – it must be, without any kind of doubt, some personal record for the mortal –, and he turns his head to stare at Stark again “You appeared to be occupied, Stark. You seemed about to discover something – I would not wish to interrupt you.”

Stark stares at him for a moment, he can almost feel how inside the mortal's mind is switching gears from the scholar mode and how he is waking up for conversation “You are one damn weird alien, Bambi. In very fact, let's change it for a very weird being, because all the not-an-alien people that I know would have poked me anyway.” Loki shrugs it off and Stark stays silent for a couple of heartbeats before he keeps talking “What brings you here tonight?”

He looks up at the mortal, still sitting on the floor, and smiles lightly “Same thing as every night.”

The face of the mortal lights up with childish enthusiasm “Gee, for a moment I thought you'd finish that sentence with a ' _Try to take over the world, Pinky_ ' and I would have died there. Might have followed you as well.” Stark rubs his hands together and brings them to his mouth, exhaling some air over them, he must be feeling cold “Shall we go inside? Not to rub it in your face, but I am kinda freezing.”

He stands up, walking towards the mortal “Do you realize that I understand barely nothing when you start doing this, right?”

“Pop culture. Don't over-think about it, Reindeer Games, most of people – like, human people – don't get the references either, at least you do have the excuse, not like you could watch cartoon while you were in another different world.” Stark is moving his hands while he speaks, crossing the door with a small, happy huff to get back into his temperature regulated tower.

He shakes his head, following the mortal to the elevator, still amazed by the capacity of the mortal to offer chit-chats “So the reason why I am here tonight... I would like to see the contraption you were wearing when you went into the Void.”

Stark stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at him “You want to look at my suit?”

He nods slowly, not understanding at all why looking at that metal suit would be more of a hindrance than looking into his memories.

“Yeah, no, you can't be serious.” The mortal takes a step back from the elevator, standing now in a heavy stance, like he was trying to express with his whole body his negation to going any near his suits, such a static position for someone who is always moving and fidgeting.

He rises an eyebrow, looking at the mortal with a entirely expressionless face bare for that movement. “Well, I am.”

“Nope, nope, that's a no. If that's all you wanted tonight, you can leave.” Suddenly, the mortal pulls away and goes to his bar, getting just a glass for himself.

He grits his teeth, staring at Stark and trying to cow him into moving, trying to put the wind up him because he could go down and break into his work place anyway.

Stark is intently staring at the floor, his hands grabbing the bottle with almost the same expression he had the first time that they met at this room – a big smile that didn't reach his eyes at all. “You near my suits? Nope. Not at any price.”

Loki walks closer to the bar, right in front of Stark, his hand grabbing the marble counter, thumb slightly digging into the stone, the sound filling the silence. “Is that your last word?”

“Tots.” Stark turns his back at him, glass in his hand, trying to look at ease.

He huffs, leaving back for his cell, rage filling his insides, still trying to decide whether to head back to the tower to break everything the human possesses or not. He growls and kicks a jug, the poor thing exploding in the air and leaving the floor covered with small pieces of glass.

He can't believe that the mortal will deny him, when he is doing everything for Stark's well-being... and why on Hel is he even trying, when the mortal will never be grateful for nothing?

Why should he care, might Midgard be conquered or the Nine Worlds set to ashes when none will ever pay attention to his advice? Has he not proven to know better than all the others, has he not travelled across the realms and survived the Void?

… Why will none ever listen to him...?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small warning, two chapters were posted today, don't miss the other one :)

The first day goes in the expected manner, he never thought Loki would come back right after... had they argued? By the looks of his bar, it would seem so. There is a wonderful crack on the stone, the marble is almost broken in two in the border that had been under Loki's hand, and the breach arrives to the other side. The force that must have been applied into that movement is astonishing, because, okay, normal marble is easy to carve and break but this one? Reinforced. No easily breakable materials enter Stark Tower, not since Pepper noticed that replacing their stuff is way more expensive that make it almost unbreakable from the start. Of course, they hadn't taken into consideration the strength of the aliens when calibrating the unbreakability needed for their stuff... his stuff. Pepper's stuff rarely gets attacked, and her things have only gotten broken into his own hands. Not something he is proud of. At least, she isn't curating any invaluable collection since he gave all the modern art away to the Boy Scouts.

So he expends that first day building the first specification and model for the Hulkbuster armour – okay, that needs a new name – which he knows that will make Bruce more at ease at staying with him in New York, if he can easily control Hulk, then everything will be alright. It is bulky, almost on the side of being an ugly armour but it has the strength he will need, even if he will have to build a few more miniature arc reactors to power it... maybe it's not a bad idea to provide every armour with a couple of arc reactors, just so he won't fall dead in case of a failure or energy depletion in one of them... yes, he should take a look at that idea later, because heart attacks aren't comfortable.

He ends up working far into the night, until Pepper comes and fetches him from the workshop.

“C'mon, Tony, tomorrow you have a board meeting at 09.00, you aren't getting late and you are, definitely, attending.” She says, before pulling him out, making leave everything over the table and Dum-E in charge of tidying up the shop. He hopes he can find anything at all tomorrow without asking JARVIS. Ah, wishful thinking. Half his stuff will end up in the bin, he had to disconnect the workshop's junk system from the general one, just to stop having to dive into the junk bins every morning to recover something that Dum-E had stored away.

Pepper is waiting for him with a cup of coffee when he actually wakes up, fixing his tie and going with him to the board meeting, promising him to eat at a burger if he behaves. He might have actually heard this speech before, she might have given it to one of her young cousins. But hey, burgers are good, he won't get picky about being taken for a child.

So he behaves at the meeting, he is all smiles and good wishes, and promises of everything they will do once the new Towers are built; and talking to the foreign investors in when and how could they deliver arc reactors to Europe. Every time that the British speak, he feels a pang of guilty for Loki, but he is not so gone as for recognizing it yet.

After the burgers, he takes Pepper to the cinema and ends up making out with her like they were teens. He is pretty confident a video or two will hit youtube after this, but it's not like he cares much about it – that's something for Pep to worry about, if she considers it dangerous to the company's reputation.

He doesn't go to the workshop when he comes back home, because his mind is quite bland after a day when all he did was trying to please the board members, and if Loki comes, he will call him down to the workshop through JARVIS.

He doesn't.

The third day fills him with worry, fearing that he might have kicked Loki out of his life for good. _Fearing? He should be partying, why does he feel so down?_

The fourth, Clint comes over and he starts working on a new, more flexible bow, that will allow him to shoot at a longer distance and also a new quiver with more compartments to carry more arrows but easier to unload.

The project is simple, and it doesn't take him long to start playing with the heads of the arrows, giving Clint all kind of gadgets to play with, from microphones and GPSs to different kinds of explosive arrows. The weapons Clint use are extraordinarily different to work with and he is glad he offered to make this.

Clint stays for dinner and leaves with his new items, happier than he ever saw before, hugging them like they were the best gift he ever received from anyone. They probably are, though, because his work is delicious and everyone should bow at him, just for all the wonders he creates every day.

The fifth day, he refuses to leave the workshop, even when Pep comes to get him. He is working hard on his new suit, he needs it done asap and no, he is not sleepy and he is not hungry, thanks for the worry, Pep, but he is completely fine. She leaves him alone after he doesn't answer any of her questions for five minutes, focused on his work.

The sixth day, a bottle of scotch finds its way into the workshop, and he records a couple of videos as he tries on the new suit. This baby lifts cars like they were as light as feathers, and Dum-E enjoys a piggy back ride around the workshop, making him do that purring noise that he does sometimes when he is truly pleased but the Hulkbuster depletes the energy of his reactor in 20 minutes, making him change the core of his reactor. It's the only thing that makes him happy in all the day, and when Dum-E brings him a smoothie he drinks it, even if it tastes a bit oily.

He starts working on new arc reactors, all of them even more miniaturized than the one he wears, small reactors that he could find a ton of uses for, if he actually was thinking about what is he doing. He's not and he falls asleep on the table some hours later, his arm blocking the white-blueish light of the reactors.

He wakes up to a cup of coffee and a cold breakfast with a note from Pep. _Come back outside soon, I miss you. Love, P._ He eats the sandwiches, feeling guilty again as the delicious food fills his mouth. He had managed to keep his feelings locked out for a couple of days and now his barriers are breaking again.

JARVIS takes the moment to update him about different stuff, as all the missed calls he has, the prospective meetings with R&D for next week and Pepper's birthday coming soon – he should definitely get her a present this year. The update is over soon, specially for the last two days, he suspects Pepper is filtering his calls... which is actually really good, because he doesn't have time to try to get back to everyone who called him in the past four days.

He puts the miniature arc reactors in one of his safe trunks, careful to not to break any of them.

He suddenly asks with a really worried voice, feeling the hopelessness hit him hard for the first time in weeks “JARVIS? Did I overreact?”

There is a tsk sound before the sassy voice answers “Even if I did not get prompted about the situation that you are recalling, I must say: Probably yes, Sir, you overreacted.”

He laughs, even if he was all gloomy five seconds ago. “Gods, Jay... I meant, Reindeer Game's issue.”

“Oh well. Then I'm not so sure about the answer, Sir. Because, yes, kicking out someone because they are politely asking for something is quite an overreaction, but when the request is for an enemy to see your weaponry, then the situation changes slightly.”

“There is no way I can fix this, is there?” He toys with a screwdriver, turning it on his hand “I can't know what he wanted now. Never.”

“I'd say, Sir, that we don't have enough data as to say what Mr. Odinson may or may not do at any given moment.”

Tony nods, feeling still devastated. It's true, he doesn't know Loki enough. He never will, if he assessed the god's character correctly, Loki is, before everything else, proud. He would never be forgiven. If only he had a brain to mouth filter, one that actually worked, perhaps he would have asked ' _Why?_ ' before saying ' _No, never._ ' because until this moment, Loki had had a reason to do everything he had done to him.

… maybe not everything, throwing him out of a window had been quite an overreaction from Loki, because a slight insult is not enough to kill someone. Or try to kill someone.

It wouldn't have been so hard to listen. Only... yes, it was fucking hard to listen to anyone else, when it comes to his suits. S.H.I.E.L.D. will never get a hand on his suits, Rhodey will never get a peek on the circuitry of one of his suits, Loki... will never get to touch his suits, right? It's just logical.

But... _why does it hurt so much?_

He goes to his bedroom, moving slowly, all the muscles in his body hurting because of the position he had slept in. He feels like twice his age right now, totally crushed down. He falls to his bed, throwing the pillow over his head and wriggling his toes until his shoes fall too.

“Tell Pep I am out. And sleeping.” He says to JARVIS, his voice almost completely broken when he lies to keep Pepper away from him right now, he needs some personal space to gather his thoughts again.

Even if he didn't feel like sleeping again at all, he ends up falling asleep, his brain still working at top capacity, so much that he is aware of his dreaming state. In his dream, he is walking in his workshop, preparing a new suit. This suit attaches to him at his will, he can summon the pieces... Eh, that's kinda cool, he definitely should do that... he has to make a note about it as soon as he wakes up, that would be so useful.

He turns around to take a peek at his other suits, maybe his hidden mind has more ideas than himself about new suits... and he sees Loki sitting on the ground, playing catch with Dum-E. His bot is purring as Loki makes small balls of green light for him to capture, the light fading between his clutches as he captures them.

“Loki...” he whispers aloud, grabbing his pillow tighter over himself, snapping awake and feeling like he could cry his eyes out. The scene was so fucking domestic that it should have made him sick, but instead it made him miss the only person who could play in his workshop... and maybe, the only person who had respected every aspect of his work. Maybe.

Maybe he is overreacting now, again, but it feels like he had lost his best friend – even if he is talking about the alien overlord who tried to enslave him weeks ago.

“Damn, Loki...” He murmurs again, turning over and burying his face on the pillow.


	12. Chapter 12

Loki stirs up in his bed. Is... He blinks, looking around to discard the most obvious, yet the most incredible option – someone might be calling his name next to his gaol, like any Aesir would want anything to do with him. No. None around.

Can it be, then...

Can really the mortal be calling for him?

But... _why_? Why _now_?

He must be making up things. A week here must have driven him so insane that now he is even hearing voices.

“ _Damn, Loki...”_

He blinks again, running his hands through his hair. Should he go? Or should he not? It's not like S... the mortal knows that he can hear the calls. Not that he is Heimdall, but definitely his mind is idle enough to pick up the calls bearing his name, specially when people is intently thinking about him, and if this that he heard wasn't a plea... then he never heard a plea before.

Still...

He vanishes from the gaol in a quick decision, before he can think again about it and forget about the call.

* * *

He appears at the bedroom. Stark is in bed... laying down...

...

… Darnedest mortal. He is asleep. Bloody asleep.

S... the mortal wasn't calling him... of course...

He huffs, no more than a heavy breath but Stark turns his head, so fast that he could have snapped his own neck by the speed.

“How? Why?” Are the first two things that the mortal calls out, before his whole face lightens up and almost jumps to his feet “You here!”

“Yes.” He switches on his feet, uncomfortable all in a sudden. Why on Hel is the mortal so happy to see him, is this some kind of trap?

“Okay, you and I,” Stark gestures between their chests, like it wasn't clear enough “we have to talk. You can't fucking get mad at me without a previous warning. I mean, not like I should be telling you this because it can be used up against me but since I doubt you will let me plead the fifth I gotta say that I kinda have no brain to mouth filter; so I gotta trust you to be the one using the brain in our conversations if you want them to get anywhere. Jesus, I am going in circles again.”

He feels out of breath just by the speed the mortal is talking, feeling the need to put his hand over his mouth to shut him up “Slow down, Stark.” The mortal is almost panting, definitely trying to catch his breath again. “Okay. Now it's good. _We_ can't talk if _you_ don't allow me to do so, mortal.”

“See? I told ya...” Now Loki does put his hand over Stark's mouth.

“Enough.” He takes his hand back, staring at the mortal right into his eyes, seeing how he stands up from the bed “Why did you call me?”

“Did I...? How the fuck...?” Loki stays quiet and still, glaring at Stark while waiting for an answer his question “Alright, alright. I didn't know that I was calling you, but I must say that it was because I... mi... needed to know why you wanted to see my suit. They're kind of important to me. Like, life or death important.”

“I need to see if there is any trace of magic in them. It might be too faint to get any reading now, after such a long time passed, but I want to check them anyway.”

Stark turns and looks around before turning towards him again “... you are asking for a lot.”

“I will bargain for checking the breastplate and the helmet.”

“Those are the important parts, Bambi... to allow you to check them is like giving you access to the whole suit.” Stark sighs and looks at him, his eyes sparkling “What do I get in return?”

He blinks, not understanding the non sequitur “What?”

“You said you'd bargain. What's in on it for me?”

Loki laughs heartily, the God of Lies captured in his own words! “Okay. You got me, Stark. Ask me for anything you may want in return, and I may grant it.”

The mortal's eyes shine bright and hopeful before he speaks, showing an enthusiasm that he hadn't witnessed in ages, not since... probably since Thor hold Mjölnir for the first time. The memory hurts more than it should, but, at the same time, the mortal erases the pain that he is creating away when he opens his mouth “Magic. I want you to make me understand magic, I want to study it.”

He gapes before answering, too shocked to form words at first “I can't guarantee that you will understand it, Stark, even if I do grant all your wishes about magic.”

“No, no, no, that's fine. I won't ask you to keep being my test subject if I don't get any advances during a week, whatcha say?” Stark is smirking, looking so proud of himself and that look makes him want to laugh.

“I say that you'd be getting much more than me from the deal. You get a whole new world, I only get to... know that _you_ are safe?”

The mortal raises his hands in the air, wagging them and trying to take all the guilt away from himself “Hey, hey, don't ask me that, I am asking you that question since the first day you popped in here. I will throw into the deal that I am a quick learner and that I am so very entertaining. You'd be teaching me and I'd be giving you something to escape from the jail for.”

“Three days. If after any given three consecutive days you don't learn anything new, I will stop teaching you.”

“Deal!” Stark pats his arm, almost coaxing him into shacking his hand.

“Okay. We've got a deal.” Loki rubs his hand over his forehead, biting the inside of his cheek to avoid yawning. “However, I can't stay for tonight. I am exhausted and need to take a rest before showing you any kind of magic.”

“That's fine, Prancer, I need some rest as well.” Stark pats his arm again, sitting back on the bed.

“Shall I see you tomorrow night?”

“Very well. See you tomorrow, Bambi.”

He nods, and almost before that he has given a step to vanish, the mortal is already wrapped in his blanket, sleeping once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this was short but... hopefully good!


	13. Chapter 13

Early, too early on the morning, JARVIS rings his alarm tune.

“What did I do to you, Jay, why must you torture me?” He mumbles between his teeth, throwing his pillow over his head and groaning.

“Sir, Dr. Banner is arriving to the airport and will land in one hour. You promised him to pick him up on his arrival. Should I inform him that you are unavailable and send Mr. Hogan instead?”

“No, no.” He groans, so unhappily “No. I'll go. Just... let me... wake up. Coffee. Much.” He gestures his hand towards the kitchen, crawling out of the bed, still fighting his sheets. Looking at himself in the mirror almost makes him cringe – during the last week he hadn't shaven even once and the neat shape of his goatee is gone. He takes half an hour until he looks human again, showered, shaven, dressed, his hair precisely dishevelled. He chooses casual clothes, not wanting to make Bruce feel out of the place.

He hops downstairs to find his black, freshly ground, coffee steaming in a mug. “Thanks, babe.” He murmurs, taking the mug and drinking it almost in one gulp.

“Anyone would say I should get jealous of JARVIS, Tony.” Pepper is walking towards him, a bright smile on her lips, wearing a sharp dress and her high heels, her hair in a bun.

He puts the mug in the coffee machine again before turning to her “Hello, babe. I gotta run to the airport, Bruce will arrive in a moment.”

She kisses his lips lightly, cupping his face with a bright smile “I know. I just wanted to come and say hi. I missed you.”

He smiles too, even if his smile is almost just a twitch of his lips “I'm here now, Pep. Anything I worked in in the last days will be useful?”

“Plenty things, you know that. But I think we all would like it better if you didn't shut the world out to work, Tony.”

“Yeah, well.” He shakes his head, like trying to say that he will try but not wanting to promise anything “I really have to go to pick up Brucey, Pep. Can you be around when we come back? He'd love to meet you.”

She brushes her finger against his chin, trying to make him smile “Bring him to my office when you arrive. We can show him the R&D floors before showing him the private laboratories. I promise to stop for a moment to go with you two.”

“Great. See you in a while, then.” He takes the refilled mug from the coffee machine, drinking it on his way to the elevator and dropping it in one table, turning to wave at Pepper before leaving the tower.

He takes his most inexpensive car, not wanting to overwhelm Bruce, not wanting to make him feel like he's throwing his money around to keep him close. He has been two weeks away before he could convince him to come back to New York and decide if he wants to stay at the Tower, even if he wants to keep travelling afterwards, just to give him a _home_ to come back to.

It's almost curious, how Tony has no problem with calling it a home for anyone else but for himself... Home is at Malibu, not New York... He sighs, going in a light jog to one of the coffee shops of the airport, picking two coffees to go before approaching the arrivals' zone of the building.

He drinks his coffee while he waits, playing with his Stark Phone and leaning against one of the columns, one knee bent, his face hidden under a cap and his huge aviator, red tinted sunglasses. Bruce will know that it's him. Probably someone else will also notice it, but since they are more used to the Tony Stark in suits, be it of armour or fabric, there is a chance of none approaching him.

By the time Bruce's plane arrives and Bruce has picked his luggage, he has already coded two new core apps for the Stark Phones, making them faster and lighter and he has transferred them to JARVIS and to the R&D department.

He briefly hugs Bruce when Bruce stops in front of him, looking tired and slightly malnourished, at least in the long hours of flight“Hey, buddy! How are you?”

“I'm fine, Tony. How are you? You didn't sound all fine a couple of days back.” Bruce is looking at him, and he can see that his eyes shine slightly worried.

He shakes his head and smiles brightly “All okay now, buddy, no need to worry. Coffee?”

Bruce chuckles lowly “I tend not to take exciting substances, much less in very public places, Tony.”

“Ow. More for me, then.” He takes a swig of the other coffee, tossing the empty one to a trash can “Have everything? Can we go?”

“Yes, I have everything. You came alone?” He starts walking, so Bruce has to follow him.

“Yeah, Pep is waiting for us at her office. She wants to welcome you to the roll and give you the grand tour by Stark Industries before heading home. I made a floor ready for you, it's the one under mine and has access to the private elevator to the workshop and private laboratories. You are also welcome to use the R&D laboratories and shops, but I guess your personal research will need some privacy, as does mine. Jay has given you access everywhere. Now, how was India?” They arrive to the car, Bruce sitting next to him.

“Same as always. I found a couple of doctors at the capital willing to move to the outskirts of the city. I will miss the city. And I will miss helping people.”

“No need for that, Brucey. There are a couple of clinics next to the Tower. I kinda own them. They have plenty doctors, but if you ever feel like taking care of people, you can go there.”

Bruce chuckles happily “Tony, sometimes I think you own the world and you only lack from will to sign all the papers saying that everybody belongs to you.”

“May be. You should ask Pep about my properties, if you are worried about me owning S.H.I.E.L.D. or the city of New York, or maybe the U.S.A. Army. I'm not quite sure I don't own them.” He is grinning, turning his head every so often to look at Bruce, who looks at ease. “Anyway, I have been busy for the last week with a project just in case the Big Guy decides to come and say hi. I have nearly ready a suit that could control him.”

“Yes, you told me. Three days ago.”

“Oh. We talked?” He itches his head, raking his fingers through his hair “If you say so.”

“Yes, Tony, we talked. How long since you slept?” And there is Bruce again, looking him like one of his doctors.

“Yeah, no, I slept today. Should've gone to sleep earlier, it kinda solved all my problems.”

“Had an epiphany?” Bruce smiles, resting his head against the back of his seat.

He smiles back, before focusing his eyes on the road “Sort of. Found the piece I was missing in the puzzle.” Bruce pats his shoulder carefully, remaining in silence for the rest of the ride. As much as silence usually disturbs him, Bruce is a peaceful company.

When they arrive to Stark Tower, Tony leads him to Pep's office, in the highest floor that is used for Stark Industries. Bruce's luggage was sent to the penthouse by JARVIS after they left the elevator. He winks at the receptionist when they come closer to Pep's door.

“Hello, I bring Dr. Banner, Miss Potts is waiting for us.”

She immediately allows them to enter the office and Pepper is already on her feet and going to the door to welcome them.

“Welcome to the Tower, Dr. Banner!”

Bruce is blushing slightly. “Bruce, call me Bruce.”

“Virginia it is, then” Pep smiles so happily, shacking his hand and leading him inside.

He makes a noise, just to remind Pepper that he is here too and he wants a kiss, which he totally gets as soon as he closes the door and wraps an arm around her shoulders “Virginia? I feel betrayed. She is Pepper.”

“Why does he call you Pepper? Do I even want to know?” Bruce smiles, looking between the two of them.

“There might have been an incident with a pepper spray.” Pepper answers, blushing under her make up, elbowing him lightly to make him pull apart a bit “If you ever talk about me to him, you may refer me as Pepper, as he doesn't answer to anything else. Anyway, Bruce. I have the contract here but you may want to see the building and your new co-workers before signing it?”

“No need. I think I already met the co-worker that will bug me the most.” Bruce is almost beaming, such a different appearance from the one he had when he was just with Tony.

“You wound me, Brucey.” He says dramatically, taking his hand to his chest.

“Yes, I totally understand you...” She says, leading him to the table, where all the papers are ready.

–

After the tour with Pepper, he brings Bruce down to the workshop, showing him everything and introducing him to the bots.

“You have total clearance in the tower, Bruce. I have to ask you something, though.”

“Anything, Tony.”

“Knock before you enter the shop. Sometimes I am working on... special projects that can... kinda blow up in my face if I get startled? Specially if I haven't been sleeping.”

Bruce nods “I promise, Tony, I'll knock before I enter.”

“You are always always always welcome, I swear.”

Bruce places his hand on his shoulder again, patting him to say that he understands “Now if you forgive me, I should go to sleep. Jet lag.”

“Sure, Brucey. Ask JARVIS if you need anything.”

He stays in the workshop, working on the miniaturized reactors, making them smaller and smaller just because he can do so, small enough to power a Stark Phone for a couple of months. Maybe he should sent a note on this to R&D and tell them to try to connect a solar panel to them, to make his phones self-sustaining. That would be a huge step forward. But back to the point, Hulkbuster... Mark XIV, taking into consideration all the projects he had started making files on, even if they aren't half as developed as the Hulkbuster. Mark XIV is a less menacing name, specially with Bruce working with him.

Ah, there it is, this reactor is almost perfect...

“Good evening, mortal.” Now that he's getting used to this, he could almost feel a gush of wind when Loki appeared behind him.

“Evening. Bit busy here, Reindeer Games. Go ahead and check the Mark VII if you want. Jay, show him the way.” He can see that Loki is shocked, even if the expression is visible just for one second. “Don't think that because I'm not there I'm not watching you, I'll see if you make something.” He almost singsongs, just to see Loki startled.

JARVIS turns on the lights over the Mark VII, opening the case and disassembling the armour for Loki to check on it. He can see how the god goes closer, hands hoovering over the suit but not quite touching the metal, focusing only in the exterior even if JARVIS opened the interior as well. Small sparks of green fly between his fingers and the metal of the breast plate, his long fingers almost reverential. Then, he slowly moved up to the helmet, his hands flying over the eyes.

“I don't see anything, but I can't outright state that your mind wasn't touched by the Mad Titan.”

He finishes working on the reactors, storing them away before approaching Loki. “Any suggestion regarding that, Bambi?”

Loki looks at him before exhaling a small huff “No. Sadly, I can think of nothing that would allow us to know for sure.”

He shakes his head, grinning at Loki “Not what I was asking for. What I meant is _do you have any attack plan_?”


	14. Chapter 14

The crazy mortal is grinning. Grinning, just like that. It should be infuriating – scratch that, it _is_ very infuriating because...

… because if he had a plan, why would he be here, really. At least, a plan that could work. If he had anything resembling a plan, he would have set it to work, instead of losing his time here or at Asgard's prison.

“Oh, c'mon, Bambi, you don't do things in halves. Why would you have allowed your plan to invade Earth to fail if you hadn't a plan to see Grape Ape off? You weren't even trying.” His eyes are sparkling with something too akin to determination to consider it as a jest.

The vexing human... he resists the urge to shake his head at him because Stark has that rogue element that never fails to surprise him... and he can't even say that the surprise is an unpleasant one, because he is pretty darn pleased to have someone trusting in him to have plans for everything. “ _I_ can do naught but stall him at this time.” He recognizes, which is something harder to do aloud nowadays and even more in front of a mortal.

“At _this_ time. That's it, that means there is something in your head.” Stark squints his eyes so lightly “You wanted to go back to Asgard.” It's not a question, and the grin of the mortal fails after he has said the sentence, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. He can clearly see that the feeling is no more than a hunch, but Stark is now completely sure about it. It has become a fact engraved into the mortal's mind.

He doesn't answer to confirm nor deny Stark's words for a long time, getting lost in the track of his thoughts because yes, he desired to go back to Asgard because he wanted to finished everything he had started when Thor had been banished, he had wanted to conquer and reign over Asgard and for the rest of the realms to fear him; but ever since he had started working on that plan, the situation had changed so dramatically that he couldn't say that he wanted to be in Asgard anymore. Yes, he could very well leave, but then again, he had nothing to do and nowhere to be.

And while he is thinking the mortal turns to tend to his projects again, a white-blueish light surging from the item. He didn't even watch what was the mortal working in when he appeared in the workshop, as he was too focused on the suit that Stark took to the Void, but now he turns back to look at it, because the light is just the same as the one in Stark's chest.

“What is that?” He can't avoid to inquire.

The mortal keeps working and eventually stands up to place the items, and they all look the same – a small cylinder of metal with the shining light on their circular surface –, into a locked closet, not answering at all.

Ignoring him. Completely.

He contains a growl, walking away from the suits as he moves closer to Stark, who is now walking to sit in his chair again, putting his feet up in the desk and working on the blue figures floating around him – is that one of the devices the mortals always carry? What had the Hawk called it, a phone? But it could be anything, it's just a blue shinning rectangle in a projection.

“Stark.” He half growls, looking at the mortal intently. Some corner of his mind is wondering how comes he hasn't still tried to flog Stark into submission.

“Thought you had turned a deaf ear to the world so no point on talking.” Stark answers at last, even if it's not to answer his question. He doesn't look like he's playing any trick on Loki, he has a completely serious face and there are no signs of humour in his expression. It makes Loki almost worried for a moment. A deaf ear?

“What are even you meandering about now?” He says, narrowing his eyes and trying to take in any motion that the mortal does in answer to his words.

And Stark flips him off, still playing with his figures “I asked you a question. If you ignore me, I will fucking ignore you as well, ass.”

His blood is boiling in rage but he forces himself to take a breath before saying anything he can regret (or before he kills Stark – only, he hasn't completely decided against this option). “And what was that question.” He murmurs at last, his voice perfectly audible though, as it's the only sound in the workshop right now, because Stark's playground servants are in a corner, their lights off.

“You. Wanted. To. Return. To. Asgard.” Stark spells it word by word, like he thinks Loki is dumb and it's making his blood boil again. He can't avoid but place a menacing hand on the back of the mortal's chair, tipping him just so slightly back, just enough to make Stark look at him in the eye.

“Yes. I did want to return to the golden realm.” He nods, like it was obvious, even if none else noticed it.

“That's why S.H.I.E.L.D. could record you, because you weren't hiding yourself.”

Loki nods again, not bothering with any answer to that.

“You have been playing us at our own game. Incredible. You fed S.H.I.E.L.D. with the information you wanted to.” The mortal, who had kept a straight face while saying all of that as if he didn't care at all, but suddenly gapes and leans forward, grabbing the arms of his chair “Oh, for fuck's sake, Natasha! You... she! I can't believe this!”

“What is it now?” He is now cowering closer to the mortal, allowing his height to tower over him, menacing.

“She let you out! She let you out after you told her how to get Barton back!” Stark facepalms himself hard, enough to leave a red hand print on his forehead “How didn't I see it before? Seriously, I'm gonna kill her!”

“What, would you have preferred to not to get your Hawk back? A demigod, a super-soldier, an assassin who lost her partner and you, because with Barton at my side you would have never gotten the green behemoth back to you. Such a team to defend the realm. Surely, she would have died without him.” He pauses then, looking at Stark dramatically “Perhaps you would have died as well.”

Stark blinks then, rubbing his hand against his chin, nails making a tiny sound against the beard. “Maybe. But for fuck's sake. She...”

He huffs before releasing the back of the seat to make Stark shut up, in a movement that almost makes Stark fall to the ground. And if an undignified sound coming from the mortal makes him smile, well, none has to know.

As soon as Stark has braced himself again, he keeps speaking, swivelling his chair to face Loki “Now seriously. Tell me.”

“What do you need to know now?” He sighs aloud. It's like having a toddler on his heels: take care of me, educate me, give me reasons to behave. But it is also... endearing? His huge eyes shine with interest, his fingers are tapping lightly on his thighs, embracing everything Loki is telling him. And he hasn't had someone whose attention has been so captured by anything he said for centuries now.

“Why.”

His patience is running short already, though. “For the Norn's, Stark, why – what?”

“Why can't you defeat the angry Smurf, what is so wrong with that guy that you can't even plot against him.”

He tries to remember what he told to Stark before, trying to add anything else to it “He courts Death and she won't take his soul into her _gentle_ hands.”

“Courts Death? What? Like Death is a person?”

“Exactly that, mortal. He promised to gift her the death of the universe and she protects him. He is immortal.”

“Does she promise things like that often?” Then Stark tilts his head, raising one of his fingers to make Loki stop even before he can open his mouth to answer “Wait, don't answer, hey, Jay, have I ever courted any Miss Death?”

“Not that I know of, Sir. And it's not like you have ever formally courted many.”

He conjures a chair again to sit next to Stark while the voice and he keep bantering, because it probably can keep going for long. “Why would you believe to have made a pact with Death when you can die from everything, Stark?” He murmurs between his teeth, not really caring whether he's heard or not.

“I was called the Merchant of Death.” Stark answers, like he wasn't even aware of the question, as if the words came completely naturally to his mouth.

“You?”

“Yes. Yours truly.”

Loki is taken aback by the words, because that sounds... incompatible with what he knows about Midgard. In Asgard, they may celebrate the annihilation of their enemies but Midgard, while vengeful, doesn't fit in the stereotype – they'd rather lock their enemies away than kill them and they wouldn't easily praise someone who has killed thousands of their own kind “But you are one of the heroes of this realm. Earth's mightiest heroes, you said.”

“C'mon, Donner. Barton must have told you.” Stark sighs, laying his hands flat on his thighs and looking at them while he keeps narrating “I was the biggest weapons' dealer of Earth. Stark Industries created the weapons used in all the wars since WWI, my father participated in the research which created the missile that destroyed the Chitauri's army.” Stark clears his throat, making a circle with his right hand “If that's not obvious by my suit, in any case, I should tell you. Stark's are genius. I'm only in the team because you were over S.H.I.E.L.D.'s capacities, because they needed someone clever enough to trace you. That's the reason for Bruce too. We're collateral effects, now too famous to be turned away thanks to you. I was deemed unfit for any team work and not recommended to join the Avengers Initiative. Had they had the time, I would have never been chosen... even if whomever they chose would have been worse than me.”

“And their selected, trusted choices were the man out of time, the bird and the mewling quim? Such a pathetically breakable team. The only two worthy specimens are the behemoth and you.”

Stark raises an eyebrow, looking now into his eyes “And as the worthy specimen that I am, which I am, thank you very much for noticing my awesomeness; include me in. Let me help you find a way to kick that Titan's ass.”

A sense of distrust should be filling his chest now, he should be suspicious of the mortal who suddenly wants to help, but he really can't mistrust this human and his big, expressive eyes. “Why would you help me?” He asks anyway, trying to test the waters between them.

“I told you once, Bambi. If I can not save Earth, I will avenge it. If I can't stop the force behind the invasion, I will avenge Earth.” Stark sighs and moves his hands again “And, God help me, I will sure avenge myself if anyone tries to use me.”

“Would I not be using you, as well?” Right after he voices the question, he regrets his mistake – he should have smiled, he shouldn't have made the question look like a threat.

Stark's eyes get devoid of all the playfulness once again, it's strangely like looking into a mirror and he sticks his hand out to Loki now, offering a handshake, a pact “I know that this is why you came here in the first place, you wanted to know how had we defeated the army, you wanted to see if I knew anything that would help you get your revenge. If you don't trust _me_ , trust my rage. Trust me to do whatever takes to save my own interests. You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours. Give me the information I need to be useful. You will not regret it.”

“Be so, Stark.” He takes the hand that was freely offered, his grip lighter than it could have, to not to break any bones in the mortal's hand.


	15. Chapter 15

“So. Shall we start.” Stark rubs his hands together, swivelling in his chair a couple of times before settling in front of the blue screens, his eyes lighting up with childish glee – just like he had been offered the chance to work in something he always wanted to. Probably, that is true. “Data. I need data. JARVIS can now detect you, but I don't know if that's true for every form of magic. And that's the first thing I need, to be able to detect any mage or any spell around me. Cast a spell, pretty please, I don't know, a ball of light or something.”

He conjures a ball of light, as the mortal asks, merely more than a projection of one of the stars that can be seen from Asgard. It beams in the darker ambiance of the workshop, and Stark leans closer, almost like he wanted to touch it, but he doesn't move to stop him until Stark raises his hand to touch it. “Don't.” He stops the hand from coming closer, holding the wrist carefully for a second.

Stark simply nods, and when he talks, it's to the computer “JARVIS, full scans of the ball, I will start to build a portable version of the scanner. Protocol lock-out, tell me if someone with override codes come closer, I want everything at full speed.”

The machine quickly answers “The reading of the ball is stable, Sir.”

One of the machines from the corner lights up and rolls to Stark, standing next to him and chirping happily? Why does the machine sound happy? How can such a simple thing sound alive? “Coffee, Dum-E. That's your errand now.” The machine rolls to the other side of the workshop to take one of the mugs in its claw and goes to place it in the machine that makes the beverage he saw on his first day. The machine starts pouring the liquid on its own, almost like it was waiting for a mug to be placed. And as soon as it stops pouring, the machine grabs the mug again, strolling more carefully to the table as it's almost full and if the mug gets tilted, the liquid will fall.

“Get Rudolph a coffee too, Dum-E.”

The machine (dummy? That's a seriously stupid name for any thing) tilts its claw, showing that it has a camera in the middle. And it chirps, as commanding him to follow. He does, walking again to the place where the mugs are stored. There are too many mugs for such a small place. Almost all of them have the Stark Industries sign, and most of the others have some symbol or another.

“Mr. Odinson, Dum-E would like to know your mug of choice, for future uses.”

He ends up pointing to a simple red and golden one, even if red is not a colour he favours, but if he has to choose one... he'd rather not have something with the mortal's name printed on it. The machine goes again to place the mug but this time, the liquid doesn't start pouring automatically.

“Have you ever taken any coffee, Mr. Odinson?”

“No, computer, I have not.” His minions brought cups for each other often, when they went to bring food, but he never took anything from them.

“Very well. Then we shall start with black coffee and move towards something else if that's not agreeable to you.” The voice pauses while the coffee is poured “A small heads up, black coffee is quite bitter for most of the people. Sir prefers it without sugar, cream or milk, but it's not the usual way to take it.” There is a small pause, like the computer was thinking about sharing or not his next thought “It might have something in common with Dum-E's mistakes when mixing things together. Sir did not enjoy the coffee with car's oil that he got once.”

He takes the mug from the claw of the machine, taking a small sip. Bitter, indeed. He has never tasted anything like this, even if the flavour is not unpleasant, roasted and with a small touch of wood or flowers. “A little milk, perhaps?” He asks, unsure, and the machine takes the mug from his hands again. He isn't even sure about why is he humouring the human, he should be working and not talking about drinks with the machine and the computer.

The machine quickly takes a box from a lightened up closet, pouring some milk into the mug and giving it back to him. If he hadn't watched the machine preparing it, perhaps he'd be wary of any attempt of the machine to feed him with car's oil, whatever that is. He takes a sip again, the taste much better now. “Thank thee.” He says, nevertheless.

He walks back to Stark, the machine following him. He sits down and the machine just hovers next to Stark, like some kind of pet. A loyal pet, no doubts.

The mortal is engrossed in building some kind of device, copying it from one of the projections of his screens. “I'm miniaturizing the scan with which JARVIS can read your magic. Nothing too small, nothing too fancy, just something I can cram into my suit. Also, it's something easier to tweak, in the case we can't read something with this model.”

He nods, looking at the screen. The figure is absolutely complicated, something he has never seen before, but Stark seems to understand it like it was the most basic stuff, his fingers fast and steady with the tools.

“This thing, it is really creating energy on its own, is it not? I mean, if I touched it, it would be quite hot. The temperature around it is 9 degrees higher than the room's temperature – see” He points to one of the corners of the other screen, where there is a graphic of the ball “it went from 69.8 to 78.8ºF.”

“It is not... not like that. It wouldn't melt you if you touched it, even if I suspect it wouldn't be exactly pleasant. It was created for its light, but everything that creates light also makes the temperature rise slightly.” He shrugs lightly, hoping that the mortal understood the explanation because it's hard to come with another one for someone who has no understanding at all of how magic works.

Stark pulls another graphic as he talks, humming lightly to himself, but when the results show up, he changes completely his demeanour, staring at it wide eyed “Holy shit. You've created some kind of centre of gravity here, the energy is spinning around it!”

He hovers his hand over it, and points a finger to the middle of the projection, making it spin faster “Yes. That's why it can flare up, like a real star.”

The mortal blinks while looking at it, before turning again and start writing in the computer, absolutely enthralled and murmuring to himself or to the computer, sentences too quick and too incomplete for him to understand anything out of them.

Half an hour quickly goes by, Stark still writing and murmuring. If he didn't know better, he'd think that the mortal is preparing some kind of spell, because he has that maniac aura that many mages of the higher rank have.

The machine is all the time hanging round Stark, obviously waiting for orders, but for the moments when it goes to bring some beverage or another for its master. It is kind of cute. And if, by chance, the machine catches him staring and it brings him another refill of the coffee... well, he shall drink it. Stark ordered it to serve him as well.

Suddenly, Stark stares at him again, smiling widely. “Okay, I think I have something that will help me detect any kind of magic efficiently. We will have to wait for tomorrow to try it, the program will be running for some hours before I can set up the scan; JARVIS forbade me to try anything new without running the scenarios before because there were too many explosions in the workshop last month; you can make this disappear.” He gestures to the projection, moving his hands like Loki did before. Perhaps the foolish mortal thinks that he can control any kind of magic.

He simply flicks his fingers and the ball disappears, the room abruptly feeling dim before the lights go brighter on their own. “So, do you need me for anything else tonight, Stark?”

Stark itches his beard, shifting in his chair to look at him “I was hoping you could tell me more about the Grape Ape. Where is he or what he wants, that would be a good start.”

He sighs, leaning forward in his chair until his elbows are standing on his knees, his eyes on level with the mortal's. “I don't know where he is, Stark. I fell through the Void for what felt like years before I landed on that darned rock. I fell until I lost any sense of time, any memory of the light and the sound, until I felt deaf, blind, dead and frozen solid, too far away from Yggdrasil to be able to contact any of its branches. I crashed and waited, because I was too weak and unable to move, so there I stayed until I was detected by the Other.” He holds his breath, quite unconsciously. He shouldn't be confessing this to the mortal. He shouldn't trust Stark, pact or not, no matter how caring his eyes look like – he shouldn't be fooled by kindness again. But at the same time, he seems to be unable to stop, because none had asked him that before “I... I was brought to him. He knew of the Aesir. He sensed my magic and he...” He stops completely, like a deer caught in the headlights.

His heart is beating fast on his chest and he doesn't know what is he doing here, in the same place where his invasion failed, in the same place where Thanos will look for him – if that place isn't Asgard. He should be hiding somewhere else.

He should be... somewhere.

Under the skirts of fucking Odin, because that bastard is the only one who could do something against Thanos. Maybe.

Stark looks like he is frozen too, his eyes completely still and focused on him, he can see that the mortal is lost in the same kind of thoughts as him. And when Stark reaches his hand awkwardly to pat his knee, it startles the both of them. “It's all fine, Bambi. We'll be fine.” Stark murmurs, trying to be comforting.

It's not comforting.

It's not true.

They can try as much as they want, but they will fail. The mortal... why has he ever thought that a mortal would be useful against a Titan?

Stark is as scared as he is.

They will fail.

“It's not. We won't be fine. He will destroy the universe. He wants to reign over the dead. The realms are condemned.” and with that, he moves to stand up, but the mortal grabs his wrist and looks into his eyes with such an intensity, compelling him to be still not by strength but because the movement catches him completely off guard.

“Do you want to hide and fall the last, or do you want to do your best and fight back?” The voice is husky, scared and broken but also resolute.

Even if his heart is still beating like it wanted to run off of his chest, even if the mortal doesn't know what are they fighting against,... Even taking everything into consideration, Stark's presence calms him slightly. Because whatever happens, he is not alone.

“We'll fight.” he murmurs, standing up and looking around, still feeling tremendously unsafe. “I need to go.”

Stark nods and he disappears, hiding into his bed and covering himself in his blanket, just like when he was a child and had a nightmare.

Sadly, he is not a child and this is not a nightmare. ' _But you are not alone_ ', a part of his mind tells him, making him smile despite all his fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to stop and serve myself a cup of coffee while writing this. If it makes any other coffee addict to run to get a cup, I wholeheartedly apologize (or not :D)
> 
> Just in the case anyone wonders, yes, Loki has some PSTD too. In this story, he is quite _human_ , he has a lot of feelings to deal with. And it'd be almost impossible to deal with the situation he has over his shoulders without being scared.


	16. Chapter 16

He sat at the workshop for a long time, after Loki left. His mind was... trying to put everything together. He simply couldn't move, couldn't go on. He waited there, staring at the ceiling even if he didn't know why or what was he waiting for, completely static until Pepper came to the door, asking if he'd go to bed. He wasn't doing anything, he couldn't really give an excuse, not without giving away that Loki was back and that he was just trying to take in everything Loki had told him. And no way in hell he was going to confess that to Pep right now.

The fear in the eyes of the _god_ had shaken him to the bone. She didn't need to know that, though. She hadn't even asked what was he doing, alone and unmoving in the workshop, so obviously awake and not even drunk, because he hadn't had a drink in the whole evening. He simply nodded his head, gesturing around in something that he hope that Pepper understood for a “ _I'll go as soon as I order this._ ” because he wasn't really sure of being able to speak right now, without his voice breaking down.

And if when he went to the bed, he hugged Pepper close before falling asleep, none can really blame him. Pepper is good, Pepper is real, Pepper has no time for his Iron Man bullshit or with intergalactic wars. Pepper doesn't want to know that he's getting himself involved in a new war, no, if she knew, she'd kill him. Probably slowly, to make sure he stays dead. After all, he has a nice record of avoiding death.

What he could be blamed for, however, is for waking up screaming, soaked in sweat and clinging to the mattress, hands around his own neck because he felt like falling again, not for seconds as he fell, but for years as Loki said. The simple thought had him hyperventilating, his skin turned into the palest shade of white, shining faintly with a sheen of sweat that gave him an even sicker look.

“Tony? Is everything alright?” Pepper asks, in a concerned voice that doesn't sound quite alright to his ears. He's absolutely wrecked and asking him if he's alright.... sounds like... mockery. Some part of his mind knows that she is really worried about him, that she really care but...

“Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. No.” He rolls off of the bed, taking one of the sheets with him and practically crawling to the armchair, cuddling himself together. “Lights.” He murmurs, barely able to rise his voice.

JARVIS turns on the lights, not to a full degree, luckily, but bright (and blissfully whitish) enough to chase away his fears. His breath goes into a pattern, easily but slowly. Pepper is still staring at him from the bed, eyes wide in shock.

“Tony?” She repeats, at last.

“Panic attack.” He fills her in, needlessly. It's not like she doesn't know what is happening, even if she hasn't seen it for a while.

“What triggered it? Didn't wound like...” She stops talking, looking at him like she is trying to read his thoughts. No, of course it doesn't sound like Afghanistan. Afghanistan was better. Afghanistan was predictable, no sand, no closed, humid, cave like spaces, no pooled water – if he had a nightmare he only needed to open a window and breathe in the air of Manhattan. The worm hole... that seems to be triggered by anything and everything. Especially New York. Even his penthouse, even his Tower.

“Pepper. I have been about to die more times than I should probably think of. Don't expect me to keep tabs on what was it, this time.” He groans as he moves on the armchair, looking at the bed but decidedly not at Pepper. He is slowly losing the ability to lie to her. At least, to lie her in a way that allows her to see through the lie – he's not sure yet about that being positive or negative, because if she can take his lies then none will call him on them. None will know that he's lying.

“Come back to bed, Tony. It's alright, you are safe.” She pats next to her, smiling lightly “It's just you and me, okay? And JARVIS looking over you.”

He groans but moves back to the bed, closing his eyes until Pepper has fallen asleep again. Then he opens his eyes and stares at the ceiling, feeling like the walls of the room are closing on him.

Eventually, he falls back asleep. It's not a restful sleep but, at least, his mind shuts off for a while.

When the morning comes, he goes back to the workshop after a brief breakfast with Bruce. Bruce wants to get settled before start working at the laboratories, he wants to set the bases for his job, so he's all alone for the morning. Probably all the day. Probably, he'll be alone until Loki comes, not that he will recognize that to anyone.

“So we are all alone today, Jay.” He says, fetching the Mark XIV to work on it. He has had some ideas on how to improve its functions while he was _not_ asleep. And he will have a lot of ideas for it and for all the other suits that he's building while he is avoiding Pepper, he's sure.

“Correct. Do you require of any particular assistance, Sir?” Jarvis answers, his voice calm.

He itches his goatee before speaking, thinking about what help does he need “Yeah, I could do with some things. Jay, give Loki full clearance. Not that I think he'll need it but... perhaps it's better if he can simply cross the doors instead of breaking them or going through the walls, if the need arrives... And while you're at it, blast the music on, babe.”

Music starts to sound at the highest volume, something that would deafen anyone but Tony.

Working on the suits has always been relaxing, it has always allowed him to focus on something and let his mind flow but doing it because you are uncomfortable around the rest of the world is... not optimal at the very least. He puts the suit on queue for JARVIS, starting files on another suits. He's just working to distract himself of the thoughts of Loki, not that it's really working.

Loki being scared of Thanos is a fuckingly terrifying thought. Seriously, if Loki is scared he should be dead just by having crossed paths with that maniac, he should be grateful that he's so unscattered.

He knows now that he needs a working suit that is able to detect magic and that he needs a suit fully appropriate for space, something that won't threaten to collapse on itself as the last almost did. Also, something with the ability to get self attached to his body would be splendid. And if he can add it, even if he has to beg Loki for it, some magic protection would be precious.

The magic detector that he started creating yesterday is almost complete, the estimated time for completion is five minutes, not that he has any use for it until Loki arrives. He sits in front of the machine, waiting for the pieces to get completed and assembled, and then waiting for the Mark XIV to come out of the machine as well.

“What do you think about Loki?” He asks out of the blue, some time later.

“What about Loki, Sir?”

He sighs and moves in front of the machine “You think he's telling the truth?”

“I don't have any reference to know whether he tells the truth or not, Sir. I think he is being truthful, though.”

“Why do you think so?”

JARVIS pauses before speaking “He had a panic attack, Sir. It is not easy to fake them while the rest of your body is fine, alien or not. Sadly, I am well acquainted with the symptoms.”

He hums at the answer, tapping his fingers against the arc reactor and allowing the vibrations to run through his body. “I feel like an idiot. I am starting to trust more his judgement than Pep's.”

“It's understandable, to a certain degree, Sir. People with relatable experiences tend to create a bond.” Jarvis answers, in a plain voice.

Tony sighs “Sometimes I am not sure of anything, Jay. Reindeer Games isn't people, though. A mad God, that's what he is. And... it's not right.”

Jarvis doesn't answer to that but with a small mechanical hum. It's an acknowledgement, instead of the whole agreement he would have gotten from any other human being, just a hum instead of the rant he would have gotten from anyone on the team about how Loki is a dick. It must be obvious, though, that he is not in top condition because Jarvis usually would have gone sassy or sarcastic.

As soon as the pieces are ready, he starts putting them together in silence, music blasting around.

“I need to plan something bigger for this suit, Jay. The avengers' duties took us from the ol' good States to Germany and back home in hours. This needs to go with us all the time and I can't have you carrying it around, or else...” What he thinks is about people mistrusting Hulk, mistrusting Bruce, and how hard would that hurt, both to Bruce and to the team, but what he says “I'd lose my uniqueness. Everyone would think that you do all the job.”

“Of course, Sir. May I suggest some kind of satellite system to host it?” JARVIS helpfully supplies.

“Yes, that would be a splendid idea, babe.” He starts messing with the computer, trying to get space for a satellite that none would touch “Set the location for the satellite to be fixed with my own coordinates. If Bruce goes away from me, we'll plan another thing to follow him around. You could drive the suit, then, no problems on that front.”

“That would be most reasonable, Sir.”

“We need to store some spare pieces in the satellite as well. If Hulk's angry, we're in a mess.” He flops down on his chair again and starts playing with the holograms, trying to create a small satellite “I mean, he can punch gods into my floor. So he can break my suit at any moment, even if I do my best to make it unbreakable, as I did.”

He keeps working, talking to himself for all the process, until the suit is all finished and he is left staring at something he never thought he'd see. This Hulkbuster is huge. As huge as Stane's suit was, but otherwise it's perfect. It's like a giant amongst peasants, it may be a bit ugly but that's only because it's on the bulky side instead of being slender as his usual designs.

No, it's not ugly. It's beautiful. It's safe. It will help Bruce living in New York, it will help Bruce feeling at ease with people.

He sits down on the floor, staring at it and feeling worthy for the first time in the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this has been abandoned for so long - I have been not so well for the last weeks, I had a huge allergy attack going on for a week and then I started writing other things because I didn't feel inspired on this topic.  
> This chapter kept fighting and feeling kind of empty. I'm not happy with it, but or I release it and move to happier parts, full of Loki and Tony; or I will get stuck. So there it goes.  
> Hope you like it, anyway.


	17. Chapter 17

“Evening, Stark.” A low voice states behind him, without startling him because it was almost like the caress of a lover. It sounds both sweet and interested, and that piques his interest – for the first time on the day he feels like he could talk and be listened to.

“Hi, Dasher.” He answers back, tilting his head to see Loki, who is standing in the middle of the workshop, looking at the suit with curiosity. He is almost gravitating towards the suit, even if he is standing still. His gaze has the intensity that his movement lacks.

“What is that?” Really, Loki's eyes are ravishing the suit. Amazing.

He smirks before answering, such a change of his mood just by Loki popping into the room. He should really check his priorities. “Mark XIV.” He answers, nevertheless.

“There are thirteen more of them? Such an army.” His eyes are shiny, he looks so happy. Hopeful? Is that even something he can read on Loki's eyes? Are they being so expressive today or is it just his loneliness _speaking_? Interfering, actually, interfering is a better verb for that.

“Nope.” He pops the p, smiling at Loki “It's the fourteenth of my suits. Not all of them have the same strengths, and this one is quite unique. You must have noticed how the two suits that I wore to the battle against you were quite different.”

Loki nods, stepping closer to the suit and laying his pale hand on its chest, long white fingers brushing lightly against the metal. “Interesting.”

Coming from Loki, that does sound like a big compliment, it's not like the guy is used to compliment other people on their jobs, is he?

“I want to work on something else. Something that can detect magic, Bambi, and something that can resist into the space. I guess you can see my reasons.” He smiles and Loki looks at him, a slight surprise written into his eyes before he smiles as well.

“I can see the reasons, indeed. Sounds reasonable, Stark.” Loki's voice is sweet again.

“Are you ill or something?” He asks, before he can really control himself. Damn brain to mouth filter, why doesn't he have a working one? Does he really have a death wish, like everyone says?

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck, sorry, Bambi. It's just an Earth's idiom. You ain't acting like your usual self, that's why I asked. Nothing's wrong.” He pats Loki's back, which makes Loki jump so slightly on his feet. Startled? “We are good, right?”

“I have had a day to think about your words, Stark. As you said, I'd rather work with you than any of the other options I have at hand, so I will work with you. You will learn the matters of magic and you will help me help you.”

“That's the deal. And I'm actually happy to work with you.” He brushes his hand on Loki's back again “Just so you know, hm?”

Loki nods, walking around the Mark XIV and eyeing it still.

“I finished the magic detector that was on production yesterday. We can keep playing with magic today.” He almost claps his hands together, because, seriously, who has the chance to science magic? None but him. Having Loki around is truly great.

“Playing with magic is dangerous for mortals.” Loki answers, on autopilot, still walking around his suits, conjuring the same ball of light that he did the say before.

“None ever said ' _Oh, Stark, that thing you are doing is safe and boring_ ' and none will do, if I have a say on that.” He taps his fingers over his arc reactor, staring at the flame and starting the detector to see if it has the same readings as yesterday“I'd say that none said I don't take risks, but that wouldn't be true because Capsicle did say that I would rather go around a way to defuse the bomb instead of throwing myself over it to cover my comrades.”

“Capsicle?” He looks up to find that Loki is smirking, damn it. Why is Bambi being so adorable today?

“Our dear Captain America.”

Loki actually laughs now “Do you ever use someone's name, Stark?”

“Jarvis'. I use his name all the time.” He replies, nonchalant.

“But you gave him that name. It doesn't count.”

He shrugs and keeps working with a smile that he can't really hide. Loki doesn't sound like he's upset, either, just amused.

The readings from the ball are really similar to yesterday's readings with Jarvis' device, but he'd rather have the confirmation from the other scanner before affirming that it's the same. He orders Jarvis to start his scan as well, and to run both flows of data in the screens over his desk so he can review them in full detail.

The readings are indeed the same, so he has correctly created a copy of the machine. Now he only has to see if there is some differences with yesterday's data, because even if the call looks the same to his eyes, there might be some changes from any of the parameters of yesterday's set-up.

“Is the spell any different from yesterday, Rudolph?”

Loki hums, making an interrogative sound. He has sit on the desk, to his left, in one of his blind spots, but somewhere Loki can clearly see the screens.

“See the figures here and here?” He points to the screen, the tip of his fingers running through the points and underlining them for Loki “This is a significant difference, and this one too. Is the spell different? Because the reading from the other machine is saying the same.”

“Probably is.”

“You don't know? How can you say probably when this came from you?”

“Magic, Stark, is an ever-changing thing. The basics of each spell will be the same every time you cast it, but the details depend on the mood of the moment.” Loki sighs and leans closer to him “My mood has quite changed. The spell is probably different.”

Dum-E breaks the tense moment by delivering two cups of coffee, giving one to Loki. The mug actually makes him surprised, he ends up rising an eyebrow and chuckling.

“What now, Stark?”

“You took my Iron Man's mug!” Now yes, he breaks up laughing because the thought of Loki staring at all his mugs and choosing one of Tony's favourites, the one with the pattern of the design of his Mark II, is truly hilarious.

“I didn't... I...” Loki is actually blushing, alternatively clutching the mug close and straightening his arm to give it to him “Would you have me selecting another?”

“No. You can keep it, Bambi.” He pats Loki's other arm, not wanting him to drop the mug. He is starting to pick up that Loki can be a bit jumpy if he doesn't expect you to move or touch him.

Loki actually clutches the mug again, bringing it closer to his body. He flares another ball of light next to the first, something that makes Tony want to kiss him because damn, that's something thoughtful. Now he'll be able to compare them. And he didn't even have to ask, working with a Loki devoted to the cause does make the difference. He can see himself getting used to this, and that's probably bad, because Loki will never be something permanent on his workshop.

He can see the difference between these two even on eyesight, this new ball is a bit smaller and redder. He pulls up the images from yesterday to find that today's ball is also slightly bigger than yesterday's and that its surface was slightly paler. Maybe it was because Loki was scared while today he seems to be happy?

The balls tuning out to their caster's feelings? That is something amazing and it also gives him some food for his thoughts. Does that mean that if you unbalance enough someone's mind, you'll block their magic? That if you are able to block their feelings, you'll block their magic as well? That'd be terribly useful while dealing with the Grape Ape. It also has another important point – if he makes Loki happy, Loki will be more powerful? It's not simply to use him, he'd like Loki to be happy, but if it helped them... that would be awesome.

Actually, thinking back, Loki's magic seemed to act out weirdly when he crossed the portal, he almost looked surprised when things worked as they did. That is something he'll have to ask, eventually, when Loki trusts him fully.

He pushes away the thoughts to focus back on the factual magic, bringing up more data about the balls. The happy ball shines brighter, is bigger and also creates more energy – the difference is amazing into relative level, the ball next to it doesn't rise even a 50% of the temperature that the bright one does.

“Dasher? Can you give me the basics of magic?”

“Probably not in terms that you could understand.”

“Ohhh, c'mon, don't be such a spoilt sport! Do try!” He whines, in an attempt to make Loki talk.

“Magic is working the threads of the universe on your fingers, Stark.”

“Threads? Like, string theory is true?” He's lucky he wasn't holding anything, because he would have dropped it in the same moment.

“What is a string theory, mortal?” Loki actually rolls his eyes, in the same way anyone would do when dealing with a kid saying something weird.

“String theory. The smallest particles of the universe are strings, which can be open or close to signal different states of matter.” He waves his hand to show some images from the internet “There's no way I can explain that one to you either, without going into advanced physics.”

“That is the universe, Stark.” Loki affirms, looking at the pictures “Something really similar to that, in any case.”

“No fucking way. You mess up with the universe at string level? Some level I can't even detect because it's not possible on Earth?”

Loki's answer to that is a simple smirk, something superior and completely hateable, if it wasn't because it makes him want to laugh again.

“Okay, you fucker, I will invent something and bring yet another completely brilliant invention to Earth, even if it's just to make you take back that smirk!” There's no real flare behind his words, just amazement. And Loki starts laughing, softly and in a non hurtful manner and it's like he had never heard something that beautiful.

“I will, you'll see.” He adds, like a kid throwing a tantrum temper.

“I am sure that you will, Stark. If anyone on this realm can do it, it's you.” Loki nods, still smirking.

He starts working on it, almost frantically, until Bruce knocks on the door of the workshop and Loki disappears. With him, the balls of fire disappear as well, and he is left with the panels about the string theory and his blueprints concepts for new detectors.

“What are you even working on, Tony?” Bruce asks, looking around.

“Mark XIV is all done, I am working on physics, Brucey-bear!” He answers, not wanting to dwell on the particular topic. Somehow, it seems not a good idea to tell anyone that he's working on a way to detect magic, not until he has something completely functional... or probably not ever, not while Loki is coming around.

“I am making dinner. Will you and Pepper join me?”

His “Whatcha doin'?” is answered with a quick “Curry.” which makes him close everything on his pc and walk to Bruce, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. It's good to have Bruce around... even if he has to hide a part of his work for not making Bruce turn green and start smashing him around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written while watching the Champions League final on TV. Any typos or mistakes? I blame it on that. Totally. :D


End file.
